THUNDERBIRDS - The Ones We Love
by lilidelafield
Summary: Two members of International Rescue are attacked and seriously hurt whilst on a mission to evacuate a collapsing building. Will they recover? How will the family cope with the demands of their job whilst dealing with their own shock over what has happened? Based on the Original TV Series.
1. Chapter 1 Two Men Down

I do not own the Thunderbirds, I'm just playing with them.

Two Men Down

Jeff put his mug of coffee down hurriedly as Scott's comm signal flashed up on the wall opposite, his eyes flashing on the handsome photograph.

"Come in Scott."

"Father!" Scott's normally cheerful face looked worried.

"Mission successful, dad. We're on our way back. Get the sick bay ready double quick."

"Of course son, what happened? Who's been hurt, and how did it happen?"

"I'll tell you everything when we get there dad. Alan and Virgil have both been injured. Gordon is flying Thunderbird Two; I have the other two with me in Thunderbird One. Alan especially is in a bad way. I…I... I think we might lose him dad!"

When his eldest son signed off, Jeff Tracy stared ahead of him in shock for several seconds. Virgil and Alan both injured, Alan seriously! What the hell had gone wrong out there, and why couldn't Scott have given him some kind of a clue on air? Suddenly, his mind clicked into gear and he stabbed at one of the arrays of buttons in front of him.

"Brains! Tintin!"

The urgency in his voice brought them hurrying straight to his office, Tintin with her hands covered in flour, and Brains covered in industrial cabling and oil.

"What is it Mr. Tracy?" Tintin asked, in her purring voice, and frowned. Something was very wrong here. Brains looked worried. He had never seen that look on his boss's face before.

Swiftly Jeff relayed to them Scott's radio call and instructed them to make haste to get the sickroom ready for Alan and Virgil and whatever treatment they might require. Stunned, the two nodded and hurried away. Jeff took a deep breath and pressed the comm button again.

"This is International Rescue Base calling Thunderbird Five. Come in Thunderbird Five. This is base. Do you read me?"

John's photograph on the wall was replaced by the video-link. His usually cheerful, good-natured face looked white and scared.

"Thunderbird Five here. Reading you loud and clear dad! Any news about Alan and Virgil?"

"They're not here yet John. Do you know what happened to them? Scott wouldn't say a thing!"

John's eyes lowered.

"I was monitoring their communications when I heard a loud commotion, and a lot of shouting, sounds of what I took to be gunshots and then Scott's voice screaming their names before another loud bang, and the radio went dead. I've been up here imagining all kinds of things."

"All Scott would tell me was that the mission was successful, but that Alan and Virgil were hurt, and he's afraid we will lose Alan!"

All the remaining colour drained from John's face.

"Lose the kid? That doesn't even bear thinking about!"

It seemed like forever before Thunderbird One arrived home and reversed back into its hangar. By the time Jeff arrived down there, Brains, Tintin and Kyrano were helping Scott to carry two stretchers from the cramped passenger cabin of the sleek little rocket. The two boys were strapped onto their stretchers, eyes closed. As they hurried through the house, Jeff quizzed Scott sharply, his concern for his two younger sons making his voice sound rather sharper than he had intended.

"How were they injured boy? What happened out there?"

"I'm sorry sir." Scott sounded uncharacteristically beaten. "There was nothing we could do. We got those people out of the building before it collapsed, and then one of them brought a pair of automatic pistols out of nowhere and started shouting that he was going to kill everyone. Everyone started screaming and shouting in panic, throwing themselves on the floor. The madman started firing at random in every direction. Two of the people we rescued were slightly hurt when bullets grazed their arms, Alan tried to help the two people that were grazed by the bullets, and that made the man even more crazy and he shot at Alan three times with the gun in his left hand. Virgil shot his light beam directly in the man's eyes. The man had run out of bullets by then, so he picked up a large rock and hurled it at Virgil before the police brought him to the ground. The rock hit Virgil on the head, and he's been unconscious ever since. Alan needed medical attention on the scene before I could even move him. He took two bullets, one to the heart and one to the stomach."

"Oh my god!" Jeff breathed. "Shot at for saving people's lives…"

Late that night, Jeff was allowed into the sick room. Virgil was still unconscious. Jeff looked up at Brains and Tintin, still standing vigil beside the patients.

"Will he be okay?"

Brains nodded confidently.

"A.a.a.a. Virgil has suffered a fractured skull, or not quite a fracture Mr. Tracy, more of a thin crack across the front of his skull, but no sign of serious trauma to the brain though. He'll be asleep for a few more hours probably and he'll have a very sore head, but he'll make a complete recovery. He'll be out of action for a number of weeks though."

"And Alan…"

Jeff was aware that the bullets had been successfully removed by Brains and Tintin, and that his youngest son was still hanging in there. But what were his chances? They could not possibly lose young Alan! He was still often treated like a kid on the base with his brothers. They generally called him `Kid' rather than using his name, and teased him mercilessly; but Alan was an extremely intelligent and resourceful young man, a little impetuous at times, but an invaluable member of International Rescue and well beloved in the family. Jeff knew that Alan's four elder brothers were particularly fond of him as their `baby' brother. Jeff fondly recalled each of his older sons helping to change Alan's nappies when he was a baby. He crossed to Alan's bed and noticed that a screen had been put up around it, no doubt in case Virgil woke up, to stop him fretting. Once he rounded the screen, Jeff could see why.

Alan was surrounded by monitors and probes and wires and needles. The automatic nursing computer had tuned itself up to full capacity. Jeff was aware that it meant it was having to keep the patient alive by means of special breathing apparatus, and by monitoring his heart, and stimulating it whenever it became dangerously slow or irregular. Tintin was sitting by Alan's bed, tears pouring down her face. She looked up as Jeff approached.

"He's not getting better Mr. Tracy. He was breathing better before, and now he can't breathe without the machine. His heart rate has gone down as well. He's getting worse instead of better. I'm scared Mr. Tracy. I'm scared. I don't want Alan to die!"

Jeff Tracy didn't want his youngest son to die either! He waited and watched throughout that night, as Alan grew weaker and weaker until finally the computer had him on full life support. As the dawn broke, Tintin awakened from her position, flopped across the foot of Alan's bed and wiped her eyes anew at the beeping of the monitors. Kyrano came in with a mug of coffee for his employer and gently led his daughter from the room, his arm around her shoulders.

"Come along my daughter, you need to eat, and there are some things I need you to help me with. You can come back on check on young Alan later. He'll be fine, don't worry Tintin. Now come along my dear."

Jeff turned away from Alan's bed with an effort and turned his attention to Virgil. Knowing that Virgil was in no danger had diffused the worry he knew he would normally be suffering at this moment, both about the boy himself, and about what International Rescue would do without him.

Under normal circumstances, with one member of the team out of action, the other three were well able to cover for him, but with both Alan and Virgil laid up, that left just Scott, Gordon and John. Gordon was an able pilot, but his notable skills lay more in the operating of specialized machinery than in piloting Thunderbirds One, Two or Three. At the end of the day, the success of International Rescue was the fact that all the boys performed the duties that they were most suited for. Evidently something similar was going through Gordon's own mind, for a few minutes later he appeared in the sickroom with his bag packed. Jeff frowned at him.

"What's the matter Gordon? Are you off somewhere?"

Gordon nodded stiffly.

"Dad, Virgil will be unsafe to fly for at least two weeks, probably longer…and as for Alan…"

Jeff nodded somberly. Gordon forced a smile.

"Dad, International Rescue is all about having the best equipment and the best pilots and the skills needed to pull off all our rescues. You know as well as I do that my best thing is underwater. I specialize in special operations, and underwater rescues. Thunderbird Four may be an important part of our work, but we don't often need to use it. If we have a rescue now, I would have to fly Thunderbird Two…and I'm okay with that, but John is a much better pilot than I am."

Jeff raised an eyebrow.

"John is older and has a lot more experience, that's all."

"Yes, I know that sir, but if we are called out now, we'll be only a two-man team. Some rescues need an extra man for Thunderbird Two. That is where someone with John's experience will become a lot more valuable than I could be…"

Jeff was taken aback. He was aware that his sons were dedicated to the saving of lives, and to the International Rescue Organization; and yet none of them had ever been placed in this kind of situation before. The good of the public and of the team must always come first. That was the primary rule, but Gordon had just proven that it was not just a rule they followed because their father said so…they felt it too…just as he did. He smiled.

"You're volunteering to take John's place on Thunderbird Five? I am very proud of you, son. Let Scott know and call Brains for take-off clearance."

John was not surprised by Gordon's decision at all when his father called him to let him know he was being recalled to base. He knew that simply being older and having more of an interest in flying made him better qualified than Gordon to replace Virgil, and that Gordon would come to this conclusion without the need to be asked. He greeted Scott and Gordon on their arrival at the satellite with the words "How are the boys doing?"

Scott and Gordon exchanged glances.

"Virgil will be okay. He's just got a very sore head. Alan's in a bad way. He's now on full life support. It's not looking good."

John nodded.

"It's not helping monitoring all the media wavelengths either. The whole world is awash with rumours about two members of International Rescue having been injured, possibly fatally, and speculation about what that will mean for the world if the rumours happened to be true and the two men die. It's been agony having to listen to it all."

Gordon dumped his carryall on to the floor and logged into the system.

"Well, maybe dad ought to make a formal announcement...to put a stop to unhelpful rumours? If people think we're no longer operating they won't call us when they need help, and lives could be lost. On the other hand, we might end up getting fake calls from people just after information."

Scott nodded.

"You have a point there Gordon. I'll speak to dad when we get back. I don't know how long you'll be stuck here boy. I guess at least until Virgil's back on his feet. How long it'll be before Alan..."

His voice broke and he turned away. Gordon watched Thunderbird Three as it started on its way back to base, and finished Scott's thought for him. How long would it be before Alan was back on his feet? Would he pull through?

To be continued . . .


	2. Chapter 2 - Pulling Together

**Pulling Together**

"Try not to cry Tintin." came a soft voice from behind her. "Alan's no quitter. He'll pull through, you'll see."

She looked round. Virgil had pulled the screen to one side and was peering round it, his eyes over bright and his head wreathed in bandages. She removed the screen altogether and sat by Virgil's bed.

"Virgil, you're awake!"

He was smiling softly at her.

"I remember watching Alan as a toddler trying to clamber over the rocks on the other side of the island. They always fascinated him, but he always fell. He fell and got hurt every single time, but he never gave up. He refused to give up. He just had to explore those rocks. The more he fell, the more determined he became not to be beaten."

"And he hasn't changed?"

"Not a bit. This has knocked him down for a bit, but all he needs is the chance to get back up again and he will."

"Scott and the others don't seem to share your optimism. Even Mr. Tracy seems to think..."

Virgil nodded.

"I know kid, me too. We can't help thinking how much will change if he dies, how much we will miss him and what will happen to the organization? But we know our kid brother. He's the baby of the family, we all watched him grow up. We know him well enough to know he's not about to give up without a fight. I guess we need a little faith."

Tintin smiled wanly. "Well I have faith in Alan."

She shook herself visibly and stood up.

"How are you feeling Virgil? Have you been awake for very long?"

"About half an hour. Dad was here. He says Scott has taken Gordon up to Thunderbird Five to relieve John for a bit until I'm back on my feet. How long will that be Tintin?"

"You have a simple fracture across the top of your skull, but no broken skin or tissue damage, a simple hairline fracture. You will be back on your feet in a day or two, but it will be too dangerous for you to go back on duty until it is completely healed, the same as any bone fracture. That will likely be in six to eight weeks."

That thought wiped the smile from Virgil's face. He looked worried himself now.

"That long?"

"It will stop hurting much sooner than that, but until its healed, the slightest stress or knock will make it a lot worse."

He lay down, his face a mixture of amusement and disgust.

"...might as well seal me up in a plastic bubble for a couple of months!" he muttered. "I'll go stir crazy sitting around base that long!"

Tintin nodded sympathetically, and gave an agonized look in Alan's direction.

"I know Virgil, but it could have been worse."

Tintin remained in the room, sitting mostly brooding over Alan's bed for some time, whilst Virgil brooded in his own. He was sidelined for six weeks or so now, but that was nothing compared to the pathetic sight in the next bed. Alan. His baby brother.

Alan, the baby of the family, the livewire, the mischievous toddler who had been found in the kitchen one day, covered from head to foot in flour because he was inquisitive. The baby who had upturned an entire bowl of pea soup over his head because he wanted the chips that he could see his brothers eating. The toddler who had broken into the sweet cupboard and made short work of several chocolate bars, and completely ruined and flattened a newly baked chocolate cake by sitting on it. He had been so thickly covered in chocolate, that the only part of him that could be seen were his blue eyes peering cheekily at them when he was discovered. The same Alan had, at Colorado College clashed with the authorities over his unsanctioned rocket experiments and very nearly burnt the building to the ground.

This same Alan who, despite his youth, was the exceptionally skilled pilot of Thunderbird Three, and as cool as a cucumber in a crisis. Alan's remarkable head for heights had always been a major boon, and any task involving precarious heights was assigned to Alan who could be trusted to be able to focus on his task without panicking or becoming dizzy.

Come to that, Virgil recalled at least two occasions when Alan could have been forgiven for losing that head for heights. Both times had involved cable cars. The first was when the cabling had snapped during a lightning storm, and Alan had had to go outside and dangle 600 feet in the air to attach the magnetic clamp from Thunderbird two to the top of the car. The wind had been so ferocious, that the clamp was constantly being blown off course. That had ended badly for Alan because Thunderbird two had been struck by lightning, burning out Alan's safety line, and the young man had fallen 600 feet, landing in deep snowdrifts.

The second occasion had not been dissimilar, except that Alan had first had to disarm a crazed gunman by talking him round before he could save any of the passengers. This occasion, Alan had apparently lost his memory of the entire incident, which was a pity. According to those he had saved, Alan had been a hero.

Virgil looked at that same Alan now, his face as white as the sheets that covered him, his breathing shallow and erratic, his heart-rate heart-stoppingly slow at times. And all this because of what? Some mad man with a gun? He had not even made any demands; he simply declared that he was going to shoot, and he had done so. It was fortunate that the man was such a poor shot. The only person he had seriously hurt was his rescuer, Alan Tracy.

Virgil stuffed his fists into his eyes. Why would he do that? Why would anyone shoot to kill someone who had just saved their life? He rolled over in bed and hid his face in the pillow, wishing he could get back to sleep. But now he was awake, sleep was not forthcoming. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw the flash of the gun, Alan falling, the man aiming his gun at him and shooting on an empty chamber, then picking up a large rock…and now he saw Alan's white, still form, tubes and wires all over the place keeping the young hero alive…the only words that came into his head, was `WHY? WHY? WHY!?'

Jeff Tracy listened patiently to John's description of the media confusion and speculation over what had happened, and nodded thoughtfully. He could see the reason for the boys' concerns, and they were quite right; but who to call? As he pondered the question, an incoming call alarm sounded throughout the room, and as they recognized the distinctive tone, the three men turned to see the picture of Lady Penelope flashing. In their concern and flurry, they had completely forgotten to let Penny know what had happened. She must be watching and listening to all the news with gathering fear and worry. Jeff leaned forward and pressed a button on his desk.

"Penny!"

"Jeff, what has happened? Is there any truth to the news reports? Why have I not heard anything from you? I've been worried sick!"

Lady Penelope's perpetually smiling demeanor was indeed looking very worried, and not a little upset at having been overlooked.

"I'm sorry Penny, we've been so overwrought and frantic here...I was about to call you. I've not heard the news reports, but John tells me..."

"They are saying that two members of International Rescue have been killed while trying to save lives and that as a result, the Organization has withdrawn its services."

"Penny, no one has been killed...Alan was shot and is in a bad way, but he's hanging in there..." Here Jeff has to pause and compose himself before he could carry on; "Virgil suffered a hairline skull fracture, but he'll be fine and back on duty in a few weeks. In the mean-time we simply have to work with fewer resources, that's all. We are certainly not about to withdraw our services. We do need to stop the endless speculation though. I was hoping you would be able to find a way to let the world know the truth, and also if we give you all the details of what happened, you can look into the men who attacked Alan and Virgil and see that they have been apprehended and that justice is served."

"With very great pleasure Jeff!" She declared with feeling, "Only...I want to come out to the island to see the boys? May I?"

"Glad to have you Penny." Jeff replied warmly.

When she rang off, Jeff looked round at Scott and John. If he needed an extra person on a rescue, he would be in difficulties. He could send Tintin as an operator possibly? She was quite able. Brains too was able, but he fared better at base where he could use his amazing brainpower to the best advantage. He put the thoughts out of his head. Face problems when they arose and not before. They might not even be needed on any kind of rescue anyway. There were plenty of what-ifs that could get in the way if he allowed himself to dwell on them. Better just get on with the job at hand and not worry about something that might never happen.

Lady Penelope arrived at Tracy Island and sat talking softly with Virgil, full of comfort and optimism. When Virgil fell asleep, lulled mostly by the strong painkillers he was taking, she moved across to sit beside young Alan.

Alan…poor young Alan. So full of enthusiasm and energy for everything around him, not averse to joining Gordon in playing harmless pranks on the others, full of laughter and games; and yet completely professional when it came to his duties, whether operating Thunderbird Three, or taking his watch on board the space station. She took Alan's hand in her own and softly stroked it, her dainty hand clutching her lace handkerchief. Virgil awakened silently and turned his head on the pillow. Lady P was sitting close beside Alan, holding the kid's hand and sniffing quietly. Then he heard her speaking, almost under her breath. He had to hold his breath to catch her words.

" _Though I walk in the valley of deep shadow I fear no harm, for you are with me. Your rod and your staff reassure me. You prepare a table for me before my enemies. You refresh my head with oil, my cup is well-filled. Surely goodness and loyal love will pursue me all the days of my life…_ "

She stopped speaking and wiped something from her eye and stood up.

"Amen. Come back to us, little Alan." She whispered, and crept from the room. Virgil stared at the door long after she had gone, a huge lump in his throat.

That week or passed in something of a blur for the Tracy family. Lady Penelope's visit had given Jeff Tracy the opportunity to draft an official letter from International Rescue to be passed on to the media and the official authorities, and placed it in Penelope's capable hands. She had been swift in passing it on to the authorities who made it an official press release stating in part;

"...Two members of International Rescue had been attacked and injured, one seriously; but no one had died and International Rescue will continue to provide assistance to those in need to the very best of their abilities..."

Although the press themselves had found the information scanty and unsatisfactory, it did at least serve to stifle the worst rumours and gave the Tracy family a little room to breathe as it were. But not much. They continued to receive calls for help, and Scott and John in particular spent a very busy week. They saved a family from a bush-fire in the Australian outback, rescued an entire work-shift of fifteen men from a mineshaft after a cave-in and rescued a submarine crew from their crippled craft after an undersea collision following a power-blackout. Scott and John did well on their own for the first two missions, but Jeff found he had to go along to man Thunderbird two during the undersea mission because two men were needed to free the marine crew. Brains and Tintin manned the talk-back whilst their boss was gone, with Virgil ensconced on an easy chair nearby to offer counsel if needed. Considering everything, things had gone pretty well, although stretched.

The two eldest of the brothers would have liked nothing more than to remain at home throughout that week, comforting Virgil and sitting vigil beside Alan. Feeling helpless and unable to do a thing to help their little brother in his private battle for life, they found that being called out to help others in their hour of need kept them from becoming too embroiled in their own sorrows. It also served as a reminder of just what Alan was back home fighting for. He was totally dedicated to International Rescue's stated goal and aims. They were painfully aware that if Alan did wake up and find that everyone had been sat around all day worrying about him rather than saving lives, he would be totally shocked, and also disappointed.

Needless to say though, each time they returned home from a rescue, they found their feet taking them to the sickroom in the vain hope that some miracle might have occurred during their absence. Each time they found their baby brother laying still, unchanged, frighteningly pale and unmoving, the beeping and hissing of the life support machines somehow less than reassuring.

Jeff knew Virgil was feeling badly about things. Virgil was aware that nothing that had occurred was his fault, or Alan's, but he couldn't help seeing the difficulties his father and brothers were facing, and felt helpless. Knowing that his long-term fitness depended on recovering quickly, and not re-injuring himself by trying to do too much too soon, he was determined to sit back and obey orders...but it was hard. He was restrained from spending too much time in the sickroom because of the deep sorrow that lodged in his heart and showed on his face. Everyone was afraid the stress would slow his recovery, but the pain of no longer being able to even visit Alan's bedside without leave was excruciating. Being unable to do anything to help John or Scott was masking Virgil feel even more helpless. Concerned for his middle son, Jeff determined to talk to him, try and help somehow.

He knocked at Virgil's bedroom door and waited for his son to respond. He found him pouring over various manuals and schematic diagrams of the various Thunderbird machines and smiled to himself.

"How are you making out, son?"

"Okay. How's Alan?"

Jeff's face clouded.

"No change."

"Still on life support?"

His father nodded. Virgil rubbed his face with his hands.

"How long dad? What if he never comes out of it? Will we keep him on life support forever?"

"Brain activity is still strong, Virgil. Our Alan is still in there. It's his body that is in trouble, not his brain or his willpower. He'll get stronger, he just needs time."

"That's what I told Tintin five days ago." Virgil replied with a sigh. "But..."

Jeff nodded.

"See, this is the real trouble we all have. Coping with rescues with two of you out of action is a challenge, but not one we haven't faced before. We're all scared witless about losing Alan. It's starting to make us lose our focus. Without one hundred percent focus on what we are doing, we could fail. But Virgil, the fact is, death is part of life. We all faced it when your mother... when your mother died. _I_ won't last forever. Sooner or later you will all have to face it when _I_ die. So how do we deal with this? We can't all sit around Alan's bedside waiting for him to wake up, however much I want to. We have work to do."

"Well I'm not being much help sitting around here doing nothing dad. If I am to stay here all the time, the least I can do is spend my time sitting with him. I keep getting chased away for my own good, but I'll be fine. He's more likely to come out of a coma if there is someone in the room with him all the time talking to him, don't you think? Grandma goes in a lot, and you and the others come in to see him when you are free...but you haven't let me...and right now I could be with him all the time."

"Well Tintin has been..."

"She could be more help to International Rescue right now than I can be, so use her as an extra on Thunderbird Two when you need someone. She is spending all day every day crying. She needs to be kept busy...something extra to think about. Look dad."

Virgil handed his father the papers he had been studying.

"This is the kind of thing she needs to be familiar with, but she is already familiar with the principles. Give her these to study and give her two days to learn it. She'll jump at the chance of having something else beside her worry about Alan to think about."

Jeff nodded thoughtfully. Virgil was right after all. Tintin was already very familiar with the systems and technology in all the Thunderbirds. She was Brains' primary assistant when it came to repairing or updating them. He looked Virgil in the eye.

"We've been trying to keep you away from Alan as much as possible because you will recover more quickly if you are not submitted to too much stress or worry."

"Dad, my baby brother is fighting for his life, and I'm not even allowed to go in and sit with him. Can you imagine anything _more_ stressful than this right now?"

Jeff shook his head. He ached to be sitting with Alan himself, even though he knew he had important work that needed doing. With Virgil sat around, he must be going crazy right now.

"Go ahead Virgil. You're right. Keep your brother up to date with everything that goes on here. Hearing a human voice might help to bring him out of it."

There were no rescues that night, and one by one the family and servants all found their feet taking them to the sickbay, to sit quiet vigil beside the silent Alan. Grandma looked round at the family. She knew better than anyone what everyone was feeling. She had been through similar things herself several times in the past, and not always with a happy outcome. Sitting around looking tragic was not helping anyone.

"Come on!" She declared, raising her voice above the common whisper and making everyone look up at once. "Why is everyone looking so gloomy? What on earth would Alan say if he saw all of you moping like this? Surely you have some funny stories to tell that would cheer everyone up a little? Things Alan has done or someone else? I can tell you one or two funny stories about your father if you like, to start the ball rolling. And why don't we get Gordon on the screen in here? Let him listen in too. He'll be feeling out of things all alone up in that satellite!"

So with Gordon listening in on the comm-link, grandma began a long and hilarious story about one of Jeff's youthful misadventures that helped to thaw the ice a little. That made Scott grin.

"You know dad, that reminds me of the time when Virgil was little, and we got home from camp one day..."

It was Virgil's turn to blush, but he quickly recovered with a reminder of the time Scott had been severely punished for some piece of mischief that had resulted in almost burning the house down.

Everyone had stories to tell of Alan's misadventures. Alan had been a very intelligent and inquisitive child, never content with sitting still and seemingly incapable of keeping out of trouble for long, he had had countless punishments as a mischievous child and a restless teenager from his father; scoldings, groundings and many other even more imaginative punishments on several occasions. He had been one constant guarantee to his brothers that living life on a private island in the south pacific need never be dull. They had grown up being endlessly entertained by his antics.

Alan had grown and matured though, into a thoughtful and very caring young man, passionately devoted to his role within International Rescue. He was still somewhat mischievous, but he had proven that he always knew where and when to draw the line. His father still tended to see him as the wayward youth he had once been, however, and was sometimes apt to be a little harder on him than on the others.

Scott and the others, working closely with Alan as they did on rescues, had learned through experience that when life and death situations came around, at times when you needed to be able to depend on your colleagues for your very life, Alan was as solid and reliable as a rock. As the youngest he was constantly teased by his brothers, but Scott, John, Virgil and Gordon thought the world of their baby brother, and couldn't imagine life without him. Even through the chuckles and laughter that their stories brought forth, ever at the back of their minds was the fear of losing him.

One by one they retired to bed that night, Virgil volunteering to take night watch in the sick room.

He kept the low night-lighting on only, and stood chewing his knuckles as he watched the read-outs on his brother's monitors. There were some heart-freezing pauses in his breathing, his heart-rate was agonizingly slow and irregular. Alan's face was white, topped with his blond hair, he almost looked like a ghost already.

"Stop that!" he told himself crossly. "Alan 'll be fine. I know he will!"

He crossed to the window and looked out across the rocks that marked the rear of the house, and the thin strip of sea and sky he could see at one side. The stars were bright and twinkling against the blackness. Suddenly the slow irregular beeping stopped. Virgil whipped his head around. Alan looked the same as ever. He hurried to the monitor, and he saw an almost straight line.

"Oh my god, he's gone into shock! We're gonna lose him if we don't act fast!"

He pressed the alarm button on the desk and with the other hand, flicked a red switch on the medical console. Three seconds later, as the medical unit sent a jolt of electricity into Alan's chest, Alan's body jerked on the bed. The beeping resumed, faltered and stopped again, then became a steady tone. Virgil heard the door crashing open behind him but paid no heed as he flicked the red switch again. Once again the body jerked violently, but the steady tone did not alter. Hot tears pricked the back of his eyes as he glanced to the oxygen machine. Breathing was barely registering. He snapped out a command tersely.

"Pump the airbag manually, get some air into his lungs!"

Someone stepped forward and began to squeeze the airbag rapidly and surely, whilst Virgil grabbed his brother's shoulders and gave him a violent shake.

"Come on boy! You've gotta fight this! Don't give up! We need you. Please Alan, fight!"

He flicked the red switch and again the body jerked on the bed. The steady tone of the heart monitor broke up and became a slow but steady beeping. The straight line indicated a heart beating feebly but considerably more regular than before. Virgil heaved a shaky sigh, and felt the hot tears slide down his cheeks, this time in relief. That had been an incredibly close shave. He turned and found Scott standing beside him. It had been Scott who had reached the sickroom first at the sound of the alarm siren and had been pumping the airbag for Alan. Beyond Scott, Virgil could make out his father and John, Brains, grandma and Tintin all looking slightly blurred somehow.

"Oops!" Gasped Scott, catching his brother in his arms as Virgil collapsed in a faint. "Come on Virg, you're not ready for all this yet."

To be continued….


	3. Chapter 3 Never Too Old

**Author's Note:**

Cathrl, thank you for your brilliant suggestions…I have taken them on board and adapted chapter three accordingly...Hopefully you will recognize your excellent contribution to this chapter.

KarenF, thank you for your reviews. This one is for you!

Lilidelafield

 **Never too old…**

Swiftly and gently, their father took command.

"Scott, you and John take Virgil back up to his room for now. He's saved Alan's life, that's certain. Tintin, you go back to bed. Alan looks like he's doing better now, but all the same I'll stay here with grandma until morning. Brains, I need a word. Mother, would you mind fetching some cocoa for us? It might be a long night."

"Of course, dear." She replied, and disappeared. Tintin nodded reluctantly and followed grandma out of the room. Left alone, Jeff turned to Brains, determined to keep his voice down.

"Brains, what went wrong here?"

"I.I.I.I d. 't understand Mr. Tracy."

Brains took an unconscious step backward, alarmed by the restrained anger and grief on his employer's face. He had never seen Jeff Tracy look like that…not at _him_ at any rate.

"Brains, this machine was designed by you to be more than just a life support machine wasn't it? Why was Virgil having to manually operate the defibrillator function? If Alan had been alone in here, he would have died!"

Stunned, Brains stared at Jeff, then at the machine, still beeping and winking merrily to itself, and then to the young man lying still and silent in the bed. His face turned white and his mouth dropped open.

"I.I.I.."

Jeff felt suddenly ashamed of himself. Machines were machines, and were apt to fail from time to time. The nursing computer had been one of the first pieces of equipment to be designed and installed by Brains right at the very beginning of their association together, and as no one had ever been hurt quite this seriously before, the thing had never before been put to quite this test. That being said, Brains tended if anything to over-think. He was so determined to achieve perfection and avoid break-downs and systems failures, and ensure all proper safety precautions were applied, that Jeff could not believe that the fault was any kind of design flaw. He knew his friend well enough to know that Brains would not rest now until he had found the cause of the breakdown and fixed it. Still white faced, Brains headed for the door.

"M. . Tracy, I will fetch my original designs and bring them back up here to study…I…"

Jeff clapped an arm on the younger man's shoulder.

"I know you will, Brains. Now we know there is this problem, we'll make sure Alan is never left alone until you have sorted it. But you don't need to drag those plans all the way up here. Your equipment is down in your lab. Go down there and study your designs in peace and quiet. Let me know when you have something to report."

Jeff dropped into a seat and put his face into his hands.

"We should have sent Alan straight to a major hospital on the mainland. We should have…"

Brains was feeling guilty enough following the failure of the nursing computer. He sighed heavily, and rested his hand lightly on his employer's shoulder for a moment.

" 's always easy to be wise after the fact, Mr. Tracy. I. we were wise enough to avoid making mistakes, International Rescue would be out of business in no time. I'll be in my lab. I'll let you know what I find out."

Within a few minutes, grandma was back with a tray of cocoa and cookies.

"I heard Brains poking about in that laboratory of his, so I took some cocoa in to him." She paused, cocking her head to one side.

"Jeff, is Brains upset about something? You didn't bawl him out over something did you?"

Startled, Jeff stared at her.

"Why do you ask, mother?"

"Just the way he was muttering to himself. I heard a clatter first of all, and when I put my head around the door, he was at his safe…you know, where he keeps all his blueprints and designs…but he was searching through them almost frantically, and when he found what he was looking for he all but threw the rest back into the safe and slammed it shut. I don't know how he avoided taking off the tips off his fingers. Something definitely has him rattled."

Jeff shook his head sadly.

"One mistake always seems to lead on to another and then another."

"...and then another!" his mother continued. "What is wrong, son? Apart from Alan, that is?"

Jeff explained to her about the failure of the nursing computer and the way he had tackled Brains about it. She smiled.

"Welcome to the human race."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you're not perfect, and neither is Brains. No one is. And an imperfect human is never going to succeed in building a perfect machine, however clever they are. Something will always go wrong with it, because machines…like us unfortunately, are fallible."

"Brains will now obsess until he has it worked out and mended."

"That is because he is like you, my son. He thinks he is perfect. Or to be more precise, he knows he is fallible, but he refuses to accept it. Now forget that for the time being. Virgil _was_ here, and Alan _is still_ hanging in there, so sit yourself down and try to relax a bit. Drink your cocoa."

Jeff sat beside Alan, sipping his cocoa and watching the boy's slow, slightly steadier breathing, and wished he could see those bright blue eyes again. Please wake up Alan. Wake up, boy. He thought to himself. We lost your mother. You were her last gift to us. We can't lose you as well. He put down his mug and got up, frustration at his helplessness telling on his face.

Grandma took a soft chair and sat down, staring at her grandson, sipping her hot cocoa. Jeff Tracy stood staring down at the young man, shaking his head slowly. He turned and unconsciously echoing the actions of Virgil earlier, went to the window to look out at the starry night. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Come here Sweetie."

"You haven't called me that in a long time mother."

"You haven't needed me in a long time."

"I'm okay."

"I know you are coping okay considering all that has happened, but you are only just holding it together for the sake of the boys."

"I need to stay strong and optimistic for their sake, or they'd never be able to focus clearly on their jobs. It could cost lives."

Grandma smiled at her only son.

"I know Sweetie, and you're doing a great job. You're much like your father was. You're a really good father to those boys, but you don't need to cope all on your own you know."

He turned, about to remind her of one or two things, and found that she had got to her feet and was standing behind him with her arms outstretched towards him, almost as if he were eleven years old again. He opened his mouth to speak, and glanced at the sickbed behind her, with his youngest son lying still, so close to death it was scary...his mouth dried up, a lump formed in his throat so huge he found it impossible to swallow. He had a sudden vision of Alan dying, of having to tell the world the news, of deciding how best to operate without him. He saw himself standing beside the grave of his beloved Carolyn, with a new grave freshly dug beside it. He pictured himself throwing a handful of dirt onto the coffin, with the name Alan Tracy emblazoned in brass on the lid, with a picture of his son's smiling face wearing his International Rescue uniform.

He took a step forward almost blinded by his tears, and sank to his knees as his mother wrapped her arms around him and held him to her as he trembled.

Jeff was profoundly grateful that Brains waited until he had composed himself before returning to the sickroom laden down with tools and equipment.

"Brains! You found the flaw?"

Brains shook his head.

"There is no flaw in the designs, so I will have to take it apart, piece by piece until I find what is wrong."

Jeff frowned.

"If you do that, won't you have to turn it off?"

"Yes."

"Whilst Alan is still relying on it?"

"I designed the different functions so that they can work together or be isolated in case of just such a scenario a. this Mr. T. ."

"I see."

"I can turn off the parts of the machine I need to work on whilst isolating the life support function so that it can continue to help ."

"I see."

"You see, all I need to do is…yes Mrs. Tracy?"

Grandma shook her head softly.

"Don't worry about explaining anything Brains. Just do your best to mend it if you can."

"Yes, Mrs. Tracy."

The following three days followed almost like a nightmare. Virgil was showing definite signs of a mild concussion, headaches and nausea and on two or three occasions, vomiting, and had been told that his recovery might take even longer than originally expected. The family doctor insisted that Virgil be kept in bed for the next few days at least so that he could be kept a very strict eye on. When he examined Alan, he was both impressed and dismayed. Impressed at the quality of the surgery performed on the young man in removing the bullets but dismayed that he was here at home and not in a major hospital.

"Should we have him transferred?" Scott had asked, worriedly. The doctor shook his head.

"Can't move him now. Far too risky. I daresay surgery would improve his chances of survival, but he is far too weak to undergo surgery right now anyway. He'd die before they had the chance to finish. Do you have x-rays of his original injuries?"

When they were brought to him, he frowned over them for some time and nodded.

"Not as much damage as I had feared. One bullet very close to the heart, but not actually the heart itself, the stomach wound deep but again not as bad as it could have been. Who performed the surgery?"

"Brains…he has qualifications in a lot of fields, and Tintin in advanced first aid. We also have the equipment Brains designed…"

"Very creditable, but you really should have had him taken to a major hospital. I don't understand why you would even consider bringing him here instead."

Scott's face fell.

"My fault…I wasn't thinking straight…"

The doctor shook his head.

"Too late for the guilt trip now, Scott. Just be grateful things were not worse."

"You mean they could have been?"

"Oh yes, he could have died…then you would have to explain to the authorities why you brought him here."

"You know why doctor."

"Yes, I remember Jeff swearing me to secrecy on that as well. I can understand your need for secrecy, but at the risk of your brother's life? Try not to worry about it too much, just have solid plans in place should something like this ever happen again. Don't hesitate to call me if you need to."

Scott had flown the doctor home again, his feelings of worry and guilt over his little brother if anything intensified after his visit.

Brains too had had a very trying few days, going over the machine one circuit at a time and finding nothing wrong with any of the programming or the wiring. Finally, he subjected every inch of the mechanism to micro-analysis. Jeff came in the sickroom to take over the watch from Tintin and found Brains sitting in the midst of an array of parts, his head in his hands.

"Brains?"

"I found it, Mr. Tracy."

"You did? I knew you would in the end. What was it?"

"One of our suppliers…you remember how they make a component without knowing what it is or what it's for, and we put them together when they arrive here. This particular element was made of a material that cracks when it overheats, or comes under constant pressure. When the computer recognized the need for the defibrillator, it started charging, and the component cracked and caused the circuit to break. The alarm that should have sounded failed because it was wired up to the defibrillator circuit rather than the computer systems. I need to reconfigure the machine so that the computer sets off the alarm regardless of whether the defib activates or not, and in the meantime I need to replace the faulty component. Now Tintin and I are going to have our work cut out identifying every component in all our equipment that was supplied by the same company and replacing them."

"Let Tintin make a start on that Brains. You deal with the alarm system here first. That is the first priority. By the way, have you eaten today?"

"Er…"

"Did you have supper last night? Or even sleep?"

"Er…"

Jeff nodded.

"Right then. You deal with the alarm, and then give me the details of the component we need to fix this machine. I'll get Penny to see to that for us. Tintin can start the analysis of our equipment, and you will have a meal and go to bed. Do you understand me? I really can't afford to have you fall apart on me. You are far too valuable around here."

Meekly, Brains nodded, and set to work.

Scott awakened with a cry of alarm once again, his mind reliving that terrible moment when the pistol had rung out and Alan had fallen, blood staining his uniform and forming an ever-growing puddle on the ground. He had not slept a night through since it had happened. Somehow he did not think he would ever sleep a night through until Alan did recover. It had been eight days now since the shooting, three days since the night they had almost lost Alan.

To everyone's enormous relief, ever since that night three days ago, Alan seemed to be responding better to treatment. He seemed to be slowly making progress, Scott was relieved to note. Time was starting to heal his wounds and for the first time in several days, Alan had started to breathe on his own and the nursing computer had finally turned off the life support, and had returned to basic monitoring duties. But the kid was still so weak. Scott hoped that time would heal the problem.

Scott wrapped his robe around himself and wandered through into the lounge. His feet took him out onto the verandah, where he found his father leaning on the rail staring out at the darkened ocean.

"Father. You couldn't sleep either?"

Jeff shook his head.

"I thought everyone was asleep but me."

Scott leaned on the rail beside his father.

"I doubt anyone is doing much sleeping dad. I know Virgil has hardly slept since he came round, I keep having nightmares about what happened. I think Gordon is having the same trouble up in Thunderbird Five."

"I know son. This waiting, not knowing what will happen is hard on all of us. I didn't know you were having nightmares about it though, Scott. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I just...I didn't..."

Jeff glanced sideways and saw that his son was having trouble. Scott Tracy, the eldest, the one who must always be the strongest, cool and calm under pressure, never over-react, always do the right thing whatever the circumstances...He clasped an arm about Scott's shoulder.

"Tell me, boy."

"In my nightmare Alan is begging for help and I just stand there, doing nothing. I should have seen it coming, I..." Scott's voice cracked and he pounded his fist against the rail. Jeff planted himself in front of his son, with his hands on Scott's shoulders. He looked him in the eye.

"Scott, now stop it! None of this is your fault! You're feeling responsible because you were there, but if you had tried to stop it happening we'd probably have had you in that room with Alan, and then International Rescue really would be out of action. I know you feel responsible but you're not. Do you hear me?"

"Yes."

The word came out as a sob. Jeff stepped back and released his hold on his son.

"You know Scott, you've been the strongest of all of us through this. You and grandma have been keeping us all in focus. But you are allowed to have feelings."

Scott shook his head.

"No, I'm okay."

"You're not okay Scott, and you know it. It is okay to be sad. We all have to cry sometimes you know."

"Not on duty."

"That depends. Let it go son. You'll find it easier to cope if you let it go. There's no one here but me."

"It's okay for you to stay strong and silent and not me huh?" Scott replied, stiffly. His father smiled gently.

"Son, why do you think I am strong and silent? Because I've not showed my feelings in front of my sons? I have an advantage. My mother is here. However old I get Scott, she is still and always will be my mother, as she reminded me very succinctly the other night. I may not be as soft and comforting as your mother, but however old you get Scott, I will always be your father. I love you as much as the day you were born."

Scott looked up into his father's face, then without a sound, he fell forwards into his arms. As Jeff stood, holding Scott tightly in his arms, he could feel the young man shaking slightly, although he still made no sound.

Once Scott had returned to his room, somehow calmer than before, Jeff reflected on how different each of his sons were.

John was scientifically minded. He cared about Alan, but his logical mind told him that Alan was young and strong, he was a Tracy, and he was already improving. The odds seemed to him to be stacked in Alan's favour. He had been seriously shocked and worried, but as soon as it became evident that Alan was making a fight of it, his confidence in his brother seemed set in concrete. Jeff knew nothing was quite as clear-cut as that, but he had no desire to pour ice water on John's optimism.

Gordon, the supposedly quiet and reserved of the brothers was in reality the prankster. A tendency to run before he could walk had always been Gordon's habit, one which had been dealt a severe blow in the hydrofoil accident that had almost cost him very dearly. It was hard to say how Gordon was dealing with this crisis. A cool head certainly, perhaps the feeling of uselessness was assuaged somewhat by taking duty in the satellite instead of John. Looking back, Jeff was no longer as certain that Gordon was best in the satellite. Perhaps they should have set the automatic relays to send down to Tracy Island after all? Control the functions of the station from the island? The reason they never did that was of course, the increased possibility of their signals being tapped and traced back to Tracy Island. Why could things never run smoothly? In the meantime, whatever Gordon was going through, he was going through it all alone, standing his lonely vigil high above the clouds.

Virgil was perhaps having the hardest time coping with what had happened and the realities of what had almost happened and about what could follow. He was about the most sensitive of all the boys, but he found no real difficulty in making his feelings known. He sat beside the still form of his brother day after day, occasionally weeping without embarrassment when his feelings became too much to handle. Scott and John went out on rescues most days, and often came back with reports of having to fend off questions about their "injured comrade". They ached to be able to release information to the press about "their colleague's complete recovery", and the longer they were kept waiting, the more the curious began imagining answers for themselves.

Brains and Tintin visited Alan when they could, but now they had so much work to do, the time they had available to mope about the sickroom was greatly reduced.

The twelfth day after the incident came and was rapidly coming to its close when Virgil awakened with a jump. He had fallen asleep across the sickbed. He stood up and checked on the monitors. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. The heart-rate monitor was showing a strong, steady heart-rate, the breathing was easy and regular. He turned and looked down at Alan. The blue eyes were open and smiling at him.

"H. Virgil…"

To be Continued. . .

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.

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Please do let me know how it is going so far…..?


	4. Chapter 4 Comfort and Carolyn

**Author's note:** I just want to say thank you to everyone who has posted a review – I hope you continue to enjoy, and for all of you who are following…you are all wonderful.

I hope you enjoy chapter four. Chapter five will be a day or two late as I will be away from my computer for a few days next week. (But don't worry, it is all ready and waiting!)

 **Comfort and Carolyn**

"Alan!" Virgil exclaimed in his soft voice. "Welcome back!"

"How long have I been asleep?" Alan asked, his voice croaky and dry sounding.

"Nearly two weeks. You've had us all worried out of our wits about you."

A puzzled look crossed Alan's face for a moment.

" _Two weeks_?" Then memory came back.

"That man with the gun. Did we manage to stop him hurting anyone?"

"He shot you twice, cracked my skull with a rock, but no one else got hurt. Lady P checked up on him and found that the police arrested him, and he's in jail, where he'll stay for a very long time. Alan, how do you feel?"

"Like I've gone twenty rounds with a heavyweight wrestler. Kinda weak."

Virgil activated his communicator.

"Dad? Scott? John? Are you there?"

Jeff's voice came back immediately.

"Scott and John are still out at that oil rig fire. What is it Virgil? Is everything okay?"

"Dad, I thought you should know... Alan's just woken up. Dad, he's awake and he gonna be fine! Tell the others. He's gonna be okay!"

The line went dead. Jeff had clearly hung up on Virgil in his hurry to get down to the sickroom to see for himself. Virgil grinned and called Brains in his lab. Brains answered sounding distracted.

"Yes Virgil? Tintin, now try the other one…yes that's good, twist it slowly...good. Sorry , we're kind of b. down here."

"Brains, I wanted to tell you and Tintin the good news. Alan has just woken up. He's spoken to me."

From the other end of the line came a crashing noise of something large and metallic falling from a height, then Tintin's voice came on, sounding excited and out of breath.

"Thanks, we're on our way up!"

Half a minute later, Jeff virtually skidded to a halt outside the sickbay door, his mother beside him. They hugged briefly in their excitement, and then both tried to get through the door at the same moment. There was a comical moment when they became stuck in the doorway, then they were through and checking the monitoring equipment beside Alan's bed. Alan's eyes were closed, but they opened as Alan heard the voice of his father. Jeff let out a silent prayer of thanks, then took his son's hand.

"I thought you would like to be the one to tell the boys the news Virgil. Get on the telecom and give them the good news."

Virgil gave his father a grin and a thumbs up at Alan.

"F.A.B dad!" he said, as he pounded through the open door.

He had just left when Brains and Tintin came in, quietly and sedately, but panting as if they had been running. Brains went into automatic medic-mode, and began checking Alan's equipment and his vital signs, until it occurred to him that he was in the way of the family, who simply wanted to feast their eyes on the youngest Tracy whom for a while had seemed like he was not going to make it. Tintin said nothing, but knelt on the floor at the head of the bed and began gently stroking Alan's forehead, and running her fingers gently through his hair. Jeff and Grandma stayed close by, holding Alan's hand, reassuring themselves that he was really still with them.

Alan for his part seemed almost oblivious to so many people around his bed. He was clearly finding it an effort to keep his eyes open and could barely find the energy to speak more than a word or two. Grandma smiled at her son's worried expression.

"Don't worry, my son. No one wakes up from a coma and gets up right away. It'll take Alan a little while to wake up fully, but he's doing good."

Brains nodded.

"She's right a. Mr. Tracy, it'll take a while but he's doing good right now."

Jeff nodded, slightly reassured and sat beside his son, determined that for the time being anyway, come rain, snow or the day of judgment itself, he was not going to leave his baby's side tonight!

When Virgil arrived in the control room, he realized he was unwise to have run. He was feeling his sore head a little more than he had been of late. He sat down carefully and resolved to get himself checked out as soon as he was done here. He was unwilling to take any chances. He pressed a button that would connect him to Thunderbirds 1 and 2.

"International Rescue base to Thunderbird 1. Are you there Scott?"

"International Rescue, Scott here. What's happened Virgil?" Scott sounded tense.

"Scott, as soon as John is free, you need to let him know the good news. Alan's woken up. It'll take a little while before he's fully awake, but he'll be okay. He might even be back on duty before I am!"

"That's great news Virgil! Thanks for letting us know. How long ago did he wake up?"

"Only about ten minutes ago, that's all. I need to ring off. I have to contact Thunderbird 5 and let Gordon know."

Gordon was ecstatic about the news. He had not been finding things too easy, all alone in the space station with just the radio and his own thoughts for company. Added to that, although he was thoroughly familiar with all of the station's systems, he was not a regular relief crew member, so he was less accustomed to spending long stretches of time alone in space. Worrying about Alan had robbed Gordon of as much sleep as his father and brothers. He came off the telecom smiling in relief. In the control room on Tracy Island, Virgil had one more call to make.

"International Rescue Base to International Rescue England. Lady Penelope. Come in."

A moment later, Penelope's pretty face appeared on the screen.

"International Rescue England. Lady Penelope speaking. Hello Virgil. Do you have an assignment for me?"

"No, I called you to give you some news. Alan's just woken up. It's really early days of course, and it'll be a few days at least before he's fully awake, but it's looking really good."

Penelope's face registered pleasure and relief.

"Thank you Virgil, I have been so worried about young Alan."

In the sick bay, Jeff was sitting on the end of his son's bed, just staring as though he was afraid that taking his eyes off him for one moment would turn it all into a dream. Alan seemed to be sleeping, but when Jeff stood up, his eyes opened at once.

"Dad..."

"It's all right son, I'm here."

At that, Alan seemed reassured, and Jeff saw Alan's eyes closing again.

"Alan? Alan? Are you alright?"

There was no reply. Alan had slipped away again, back into unconsciousness.

Jeff decided not to tell the boys this latest development. They would find out soon enough when they got home. He called Virgil on the telecom and asked him to come back to the sick bay. When Virgil arrived, he was less worried about this turn of events than his father had expected.

"It's okay dad, Alan's been in a coma for almost two weeks. It'll take him a couple of days at least to wake up properly. Besides, right now, sleep is the best thing for him. He is so weak, his brain will struggle trying to heal him and cope with him being awake at the same time. Each time he wakes up, he'll stay awake for longer, and he'll have a little more energy and he'll be more aware of what is going on around him."

Jeff nodded.

"Grandma said that too. Go on son, you have been here for days now almost without a break. Tintin and I will sit here for a while. Why don't you go out and get some sun for a bit?"

Virgil nodded. He clapped his arm around Brains' shoulders. Brains had been standing by the door, looking happy, relieved and a little lost all at the same time.

"Come along Brains. Today is a day for celebrating Alan's recovery. Why have I never seen you sunbathing?"

The two left the room together.

Almost three hours later, Scott and John returned, worn out and drained from their hard work, and even without changing or washing up, and still clad in their sooty and grimy International Rescue Uniforms, made their way down to the sickroom to say "Hi!" to Alan. They stopped short in the doorway, seeing the same sight that had been greeting them every day for the last twelve or more days.

"Dad, Grandma, I thought he was awake."

Scott's tone was of worry. Jeff smiled tiredly.

"He did wake, Scott. He even spoke a few words, but he's gone again."

"Another coma!?" Scott sounded almost panicked. John rubbed his brother's shoulder.

"Easy, Scott. Waking from a coma is not like waking up from sleep. It happens slowly, in stages. He'll wake again in a few hours, honest."

"You're sure?"

Scott crossed the room and took Alan's left hand and cupped it in his own. He crouched down and kissed his brother's forehead gently.

"Come on Ally-boy. We're missing you around here."

Scott felt an arm on his shoulder. When he turned, he found Virgil had returned and was smiling at him.

"Scotty, why don't you and John go and wash up? Have supper with me down by the pool then go to bed. If you take first shift with Alan in the morning, you might even be there when he wakes up."

Scott paused, ready to argue. He really wanted to sit here with his baby brother right now, but he knew that would be foolish. Besides, he needed to get food and rest whilst he had the chance. Who knew when another emergency call might come in? He finally nodded and followed his younger brothers meekly out of the room.

Scott and John had sat with Alan in the sickroom for most of the following day hoping to see Alan's baby blues again, but it was late afternoon before he stirred and opened his eyes again. This time his father was sitting close beside him, nodding off to sleep himself. He jerked awake when he sensed movement and smiled down at the young man.

This time Alan did seem a livelier and a lot more aware of what was going on around him. His vital signs all checked out as close to normal as was to be expected, and his wounds were healing well. There was no sign of infection in the wounds, and Jeff, for the first time, allowed himself to start believing that all would be alright after all.

Alan's face creased in a slight frown. Jeff leaned forward and kissed him.

"Are you all right, son?"

"Dad, am I going to die?"

Jeff paused and gulped slightly, recalling how close Alan had come to it once or twice. He shook his head, smiling reassuringly.

"We did think you might for a while, you were so badly hurt, but you have made such good progress, you'll be okay. You just keep on fighting, son. You'll be back on your feet in no time."

Alan wasn't quite satisfied. Something seemed to be gnawing at him.

"But Virgil got hurt didn't he? I was sure I saw him..."

"Don't worry son, Virgil will be fine. You both will. He hurt his head, but he'll be as right as rain before long."

"But dad, the rescues…" he gasped feebly.

"Alan, you don't have to worry about that. We're taking care of it."

Jeff could see though that the thought of both himself and Virgil being out of action for a few weeks was worrying Alan, and that might impede his progress. Better to reassure him.

"We have things covered for now, really. Gordon's up on Five, and down here we have Scott, John, Me, Brains and Tintin, we're managing okay for now. You just worry about getting well, okay boy?"

That afternoon, Jeff left Brains on duty in the International Rescue office, watching over things, whilst he retired to his bedroom to think things through. At least, that was what he told his sons. Once alone in his room however, he slumped in a chair and stared into the distance, his mind going back over memories he had been refusing to acknowledge until now. There was a knock on his door after a while, and when he did not reply, the door creaked open and grandma's lined, kindly face peered round the door.

"You _are_ in here Jeff. I had a feeling you would be here. Are you alright?"

"Mother..."

Grandma came right in without waiting for an invitation.

"Should you be up here, brooding on your own?"

"I'm not brooding mother..."

She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at her son.

"Jefferson Tracy, you listen to me boy. Those boys of yours need you, and you hide up here? When Alan's life was in jeopardy they would have understood it, but now?"

"Now what, mother?"

"You refused to admit how scared you were when you didn't know whether young Alan would pull through this affair or not, now you know he's alright, this is the shock coming out on you now isn't it? The fear? The worry that what happened to Carolyn might happen all over again, to her little golden haired baby?"

"So I'm not allowed to have feelings, is that it?" Jeff snapped uncharacteristically. His mother shook her head patiently.

"No, no, no, Jeff, you are a great father, and you have done and are doing nothing any normal person wouldn't do... but you are not a normal person Jeff, and those boys downstairs are not normal boys. They all risk their lives every day to save other people. Whenever you send them, they go, willingly. They love you Jeff, they love you for who you are and what you have created and for your dedication to International Rescue. Right now they need you to be there for them. They've been running on adrenaline ever since the shooting, and now that Alan is out of danger..."

"It's like the elastic has snapped...everyone is in shock..."

His mother nodded.

"Just be careful son, that you don't find yourself distancing yourself from those boys because of International Rescue. Any time you could get the news that one of them has been hurt or killed while on assignment, and Alan and John more than the others because of the extra dangers involved in working in space. If you are truly dedicated to the organization, and I know you are, you might forget that you are their father as well as their commanding officer."

"Commanding officer? I don't like that. I guess you're right mother. There is a danger that could happen, especially since..."

To his enormous surprise, his voice broke, and he turned away, as his relief expressed itself in a huge tear that rolled down his cheek. He felt his mother's light touch on his shoulder for a moment, then the door softly clicked, and she was gone.

In the main lounge, Scott, Virgil and John were sitting politely on the sofas, making conversation as though they were strangers at a doctor's surgery rather than brothers trying to overcome a massive trauma. Tintin entered the room quietly, sat down, stood up again, looked almost helplessly around the room and finally headed out to the verandah where she stood, staring out across the ocean. It was this scene that Jeff found when he crept quietly downstairs and stood in the doorway.

He was immensely proud of his boys. They had always been close, but they were closer now than ever, especially since they had learned to trust one another's instincts so well each in their own areas of expertise. Mother was right, he thought. The boys needed him to be their father right now. Grown up or not, they needed him, just as he had needed his mother eight days ago.

He switched his gaze to Tintin on the verandah, and as she turned, he jerked his head almost imperceptibly. She nodded and, without changing expression, she wandered out of the room by the other door...presumably to go to the sickbay to see Alan. When she was gone, he walked in behind them, and sat himself down on one of the sofas, beside John.

"So how are you boys doing?" he asked without preamble. The silence was deafening. He looked round at them. They were all looking at him, watching him intently, as though waiting for him to say more. They all looked somehow lost. He closed his eyes briefly, and shook his head.

"Looks like you've all been doing about as well as I have."

"What do you mean, father?" Virgil asked, in his soft voice.

"I mean that we've all been doing everything we had to do, because we had to. We had to keep on going, keep the organization going somehow. Now Alan is out of danger, I feel like I've betrayed him somehow... carrying on working as though nothing had happened. I keep wondering how I would be feeling now if Alan had died...I should have been sitting with him, to hell with the organization..."

"But that's not what Alan would want." Scott chipped in. His father nodded.

"I know Scott. We've all known that, but it hasn't helped has it?"

He paused, and his sons noticed the slight tremor in his voice.

"I had plans to start the organization a long time ago... long before I actually did. You boys were all very little... then Alan was born, and your mother became so sick, and I shelved all my plans until she would recover. She urged me to carry on with my plans as normal, not to let her illness stop everything from happening, but I refused to listen to her. I insisted on staying with her every minute; I spent so much money trying to find a cure for her. Then, as you know, when Alan was four we lost her. On her deathbed she wrote me a letter... I found it under her pillow after...well, I am going to read it to you now..."

He took from his pocket a folded sheet of paper and opened it, wiping something from his eyes with his handkerchief as he did so. His sons were slightly damp eyed, but he had their full attention. Then, slightly shakily it must be said, he started to read softly.

"My dearest darling Jeff

I am so sorry I have had to leave you so soon. I know we would have had a wonderful old age together on our island paradise. I don't want you to spend the rest of your life wishing and wasting away, I want you to work hard and make those wonderful dreams of yours come true. I would have loved to have lived to see them happen for myself, but neither my life or my death will have been wasted if you promise me that you will never give up on your dreams.

You have given me a love that I could never have dared to dream about, and five wonderful little boys that will one day be men to be proud of. As I lie here, I can see them now in my mind's eye, as young men, handsome and courageous.

Scott will be strong and responsible; John will be clever and wise; Virgil will be loving and caring for all his brothers; Gordon will always be fun-loving and optimistic; and Alan…even though he is still little I can see in him the passion for life that drives you. Believe me, if you ever come to doubt your dreams my darling, just look at the passion in the eyes of our special sons.

They will come to make your dream theirs too Jeff, I promise you. I know that because they have you as their father and me as their mother, and our shared dream to keep their hearts glowing even though I will be gone.

The lights are fading now, even though it is still day, so I think I may not have a long time left to me. Try not to mourn me for too long my darling, for I will never be truly gone. I will always be in your heart, and I will always be there too, in the eyes of Scott and John and Virgil and Gordon and little Alan. Never forget me, and know I will love you forever

Your very own

Carolyn"


	5. Chapter 5 Ignis Aurum Probat

Ignis Aurum Probat

There was a long silence, as everyone absorbed what they had just heard. A message from their mother, from way back in the past. Jeff looked around at them.

"Thank you for sharing that with us dad." Virgil said softly, "It's beautiful."

"She would be very proud of all of you." Jeff told them. He held up his wife's letter.

"This is in part why I carried on working, even though my heart has been breaking." he said in a low voice. "Even though every instinct told me to shut everything down for a few weeks, your mother's voice kept ringing in my ears, never to let anyone or anything get in the way of what we are doing, because it is a necessary work, a noble work. I tried to ignore it for a while, even then; but I knew what Alan would have said if he had woken up and found us all sitting around here all day instead of getting out there doing our work. Alan is your mother all over again...and so are each and every one of you. Which of you wouldn't have argued with me if I had shut us down?"

John glanced at his brothers and back at his father.

"No one, dad. I guess we all feel the same way... we wanted to sit in the sick room with Alan, so that we would be there with him if anything happened, or he needed anything, but the work we do helping people, saving lives is important."

Virgil sniffed.

"We were able to save the lives of those people out there but we couldn't do anything to help our own little brother. All we could do was sit and watch and wait..."

He looked round and shook his head ruefully.

"I don't like waiting!"

Jeff smiled gently.

"Your mother was right about all of you. She saw it in all of you when you were small."

"You mean when John and Virgil were fighting over those toy trucks?" asked Scott with a grin.

"Or when at the age of ten, Scott played truant from school and fell in the river, and came home covered in mud from head to foot?" Retorted John, laughing. Jeff nodded.

"Every time, because she watched the way you worked out your differences without our interference, she saw you both make friends and share the trucks. She watched Scott rinse the mud from his clothes himself and put them in with the laundry, and then without any prompting, he came to my office and owned up, and accepted his punishment without a complaint."

Scott went pink, and Virgil turned to him.

"Scotty, you never did tell us, what _was_ your punishment for that?"

"Ummm..." He glanced at his father, who was quietly chuckling to himself at the memory. "Ummm...well you remember mother was always helping out the ladies who ran the local orphanage? My punishment was to go to them and spend a day helping them with their special project."

"That doesn't sound so bad." John commented. Scott looked at him. "What neither mom or dad bothered to warn me was the fact that they were busy making pink frilly fairy dresses for the girls in the home, and they needed someone to model them on. They couldn't use any of the girls because the dresses were meant as a surprise..."

John and Virgil glanced at each other in surprise and let out a guffaw.

"You had to spend the day modeling frilly fairy frocks for the girls at the orphanage? No wonder you've always refused to talk about it!"

"I still can't look at a kid in a pink frilly dress without having nightmares."

"It certainly cured you of that rebellious streak Scott." His father told him with a smile. "I remember overhearing you once telling someone that the punishments I used to give you for skiving off school and the other... the other little things you used to do were worth it. I knew I had to find a punishment that would make the risk not worth taking."

"It worked." Scott replied ruefully. "That day was the longest day of my entire life, and I still start to get itchy whenever I think about it. Let's change the subject."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Up in Thunderbird Five, Gordon was finding things almost as difficult now Alan was starting to recover, as he had been before. His feelings of desperation to get back home to see his baby brother in person was almost overwhelming, and grew day by day. That he was kept updated regularly on his brother's progress notwithstanding, he couldn't stop himself worrying. Until he could see Alan himself with his own eyes, he couldn't stop the thought creeping in that he might have simply dreamt Alan waking up. That he would wake up himself from this dream to find himself in a nightmarish reality where Alan had in truth never woken up, and the family were planning Alan's funeral without telling him.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw the flash of the gun, heard himself scream Alan's name, saw Alan falling to the ground amidst a lot of blood, and the screams of the other people they had rescued. He saw it again and again and again, like an action replay doomed to keep repeating itself over and over and over. He could push the pictures away with an effort whilst he was awake and focusing on his work, but the memories and the still not banished fears invaded his dreams whenever he fell asleep, and his daydreams whenever his mind began to wander. How long would he be able to continue like this? Lack of proper sleep was starting to take its toll on him. But even if he did return home, who would be able to come up here in his place? Everyone was needed back home weren't they? He would just have to try and wait this out then. He turned back to the control panel as another cry for help came through. He switched to monitor, focusing his mind once more on his assigned task.

Scott Tracy sat in the sickroom, watching his youngest brother uneasily as he slept. He was not one to easily admit defeat, but he had come close to it these last couple of weeks. Keeping the organization running despite everything, going out every day to help others when he couldn't do a thing to help his own brother; that was the hardest thing he had ever done. On top of that, to have strangers asking if it was true that his colleague had been killed, or did he think his colleague was going to die, or would International Rescue close down if another one of its members got killed…all these questions from well- meaning people had not made things any easier. Each rescue had become in consequence an ordeal to be endured. Never had his feelings deteriorated to such a pitch as this. At the end of the day, he had been scared out of his wits that his little brother would die, and he was still scared of something similar happening again.

Brains of course, ever ready for a challenge, was now working on a way to create a fabric that was thin and light enough for them to still be efficient and comfortable, but also be bullet-proof. If there was a way, Brains would find it, but for his part, Scott for once was not optimistic.

Right now, all he wanted was to sit here with Alan. To watch over him as he had done always. To comfort him when he needed comfort, to listen when he needed to talk, or was he really here for his own benefit?

The whole family had been very badly frightened by the shooting incident, and if anything could have come close to making them all want to jack everything in, this was it. Little Alan, the baby of the family. They had all picked him up and brushed him down when he had fallen over as a little boy. When little Alan cried, there had always been a rush of worried brothers to wipe away his tears and make his hurt better. These days he was a grown man, and perfectly capable of brushing himself down after a fall, but that didn't stop them all from rushing to the rescue. On the whole, Alan endured the over-protectiveness and the warm-hearted teasing from his brothers very well, knowing that it was their way of showing him how very much they still cared and worried about him.

Scott looked across the bed at Virgil sitting slouched in the other chair. Virgil had hardly left Alan's side, and even now he was sitting, almost planted in his chair as though he had taken root. Funny how mother had seen all those things in them when they were very young.

At the thought of his mother, and the letter from her that dad had read out to them earlier, Scott's eyes misted slightly. She had been a remarkable person. Absolutely devoted to her family. She had watched Scott himself, as Johnny came along, and later Virgil, how her little Scotty had watched over the babies, helped to care for them and been fiercely protective of them. She had watched how Johnny had become a child always determined to find the proper answers to his questions. He was never content to be fobbed off.

Scott smiled at a dim recollection of Johnny at the age of three asking his father about baby Virgil. Knowing that he had come out of mummy's tummy, Johnny had naturally wanted to know how he had got there. Mother had simply replied that daddy put him there, knowing that that would be satisfactory enough for a three-year-old. But that evening, when they had arrived home from the maternity ward, Johnny had asked dad how did he manage to put Virgil into Mummy's tummy? Scott remembered clearly the look on dad's face as he scratched his head, wondering how he was going to explain that one to a three-year-old boy who was clearly never going to accept any wild stories about storks or gooseberry bushes.

A loud alarm sounded suddenly, and for the first time, Scott found himself cursing softly, and he looked up at Virgil's warm brown eyes smiling at him.

"I'll tell Alan you were here. You go."

"Scotty…"

Scott stopped in his tracks and turned back. Alan was awake once more. He had been sleeping such a lot that Scott had not yet managed to see him awake. He bent low over Alan's bed and kissed the tip of his youngest brother's nose.

"It's good to see those baby blues of yours. There's a rescue kid, I have to go. I've missed you, kiddo."

Alan smiled at him, and Scott's heart melted. He would have given anything to have been able to stay, but his wrist-com went off at that moment, indicating that he was needed urgently. He winked and sped from the room. Alan was watching the door long after Scott went through it. Finally, Virgil gave him a gentle nudge.

"Hey, you all right?"

"Scott. He looks…tired out. Worn out…like he needs a long holiday."

Virgil nodded.

"He's been worrying about you, boy. Along with all of the rest of us."

"Was I really that bad Virg? Wasn't I just asleep? Why have you all been worrying about me quite so much? I see it in dad's eyes, and Johnny too. Oh, and another thing…I really think Gordon is in trouble."

Virgil blinked. Ok, he thought, one thing at a time. He took Alan's right hand and held it tightly.

"First things first Alan. To answer your first question, yes you were that bad for a while. You were fighting for your life and for a while it really looked as though we were going to lose you. In fact, on one occasion we actually did lose you, but we were able to get you back. That's probably what you can see in everyone Alan. Everyone has been worried sick for two weeks and knowing there was nothing we could do to help you. All we could do was wait and watch. Rescuing lots of other people, and the one person we really wanted to rescue was you and we couldn't do a thing. We are all now only just starting to come down after it. Knowing that you are doing good now is the tonic we all need. It will just take a few days, that's all."

"So what about Gordon? I haven't seen any if his transmissions, but I've heard his audio transmission from Thunderbird Five a couple of times and he sounds… stressed out. Are you sure he's okay?"

"Brains is revamping the video comms, so right now all we have is the audio. But Gordon's ok Alan. He'd tell us if he wasn't."

Alan shook his head tiredly.

"No Virgil, he wouldn't. He'd think he was letting everyone down if he admitted he had a problem."

Virgil stared at his brother. Alan was right. Of course Gordon wouldn't say anything especially under the circumstances. He smiled at Alan.

"There's nothing you miss, is there kiddo? Try not to worry, okay? I'll talk to Gordo, and if need be I'll speak to dad."

"Virg, why not let me speak to him? Get him on the vid and let me see him."

"We're trying to…"

"I know, you're protecting me from stress and from worrying about International Rescue and everything, and I really appreciate it Virgil, but right now I think Gordo needs to talk. Can you put him through to talk to me privately, without anyone else listening in? If there is a problem, it has to be related to what happened, right? Maybe he'll feel okay talking to me about it."

Virgil nodded finally.

"I'll tell Scott."

Later that afternoon, Virgil pulled his eldest brother aside and spoke to him.

"Scott, have you noticed anything amiss with Gordon recently?"

Scott shrugged.

"He sounds strained, especially while the video feed was being upgraded, but I guess that's natural given what's been happening, why? Is he sick?"

"Alan is convinced that there is something seriously wrong with Gordon. He says he can tell by the tone of his voice."

Scott looked serious.

"Well Alan's closest to him. They were always thick as thieves. Is he sure?"

Virgil nodded.

"Pretty sure. Alan reckons he can get Gordo to talk if we give them a secure video link and some privacy."

"Alan's only just awake. He can barely string more than a few sentences together without wearing himself out…" Scott hung his head. "Very well Virgil, we definitely need Gordo to be in top form for the next week or so at least, so if Alan thinks he's up to it, go ahead."

The next morning, Brains contacted Gordon on the new video link.

"A.a.a. , morning Gordon. Are you receiving me?"

"Receiving clear as crystal Brains, that's great. Much better than before."

"How are things looking up there right now?"

"Quiet."

"Good, I have someone here who is anxious to see you. You have a private and secure channel."

Brains' face disappeared and Gordon gasped. It was Alan.

Alan looked thinner, and very pale. He looked tired and unwell, but his sparkly blue eyes were open and smiling at him.

"Hey Gordo!"

"Allie!"

In his relief, Gordon had reverted to Alan's childhood nickname. "Allie, are you all right? I've been worried sick."

He saw Alan smile.

"I'm tired of lying in bed, but I'm too sleepy to get up yet. But I'm doing okay. I'm worried about you though Gordo. I can hear it in your voice every time I hear you call. You're stressed out and trying to hide it."

"I've been worrying about you."

"Thanks. So has everyone apparently. Sorry."

"Not your fault."

"I know, but I promise I'm okay Gordo, really. I'll be up and about in a few days."

"Good."

Alan raised his eyebrows.

"Gordon, I know there's something else wrong. I can see it in your eyes. Please talk to me."

"I'm fine. Anyway, you're the last person who needs to hear my problems."

Alan smiled, and Gordon's heart jumped. That was his little brother!

"Gordon, remember the first time I had an awful nightmare? I was about three, and you got into bed beside me to comfort me and made me tell you about it? Do you remember what you said?"

Gordon remembered only too well. Alan had always tried to be a big boy like his brothers, but that nightmare had frightened the little boy considerably, and he had been unable to stop crying and shaking. Gordon nodded.

"I said that sometimes things are only half as scary when you can be a big boy and tell someone else what scared you."

Alan smiled at him.

"Then be a big boy Gordo, and tell me what is scaring you."

Gordon's feelings exploded suddenly in a noise that was half a laugh and half a sob, and he vanished from the screen for a minute while he hurriedly wiped his eyes and blew his nose.

"You're entirely too clever Allie, do you know that?"

"Please tell me what's up Gordo? I know something is wrong, and I'm worried about you, all alone up there, especially right now."

Gordon stared at him, wishing desperately that he could give his little brother a hug.

"I'm not sleeping, Alan. I keep waking up sweating. I relive what happened over and over and over again. I can't help it. I keep wondering what I could have done differently to stop what happened. How come I never noticed that that maniac had a gun on him? What if something like that happens again? We almost lost you, Alan. That thought scares me witless, and we really could lose you if it ever does happen again. I'm afraid kiddo. Really, really afraid."

A tear escaped Alan' s eye. This attack on International Rescue had affected everyone profoundly. Not just Alan and Virgil who were physically injured. Everyone else had been hurt too. Gordon was in shock, reliving the incident. Alan suspected that Scott and John were in a similar position, although they were much better at hiding their feelings than Gordon had ever been, and Alan had not seen a great deal of them. They spent much of their days away on missions. How could he help Gordon though, when they were so far apart?

"Gordon, I'm so sorry. That man really was a maniac. We don't meet too many of them. But we put ourselves in danger every time we go out there. Especially you and I, deep under the sea or thousands of miles out into space. This isn't the first time we almost lost either. You remember that time Thunderbird Two was shot down, and Virgil was badly hurt?* Or the time Thunderbird Two was struck by lightning and my safety line was severed?"**

Gordon nodded, but he didn't smile.

"But this was not the first maniac with a gun we've encountered. You met one before on a cable-car and managed to talk him round.*** It could happen again easily, Alan."

Alan smiled mischievously.

"Well, that man on the cable-car wasn't a maniac Gordon, he was just scared. Scared silly. I reasoned with him, that was all, and tried to make him feel needed by giving him something useful to do to help. He stopped worrying about himself then and started helping me with the rescue."

Gordon's eyes opened wide.

"Alan! You told us you lost your memory of that rescue!"

Alan chuckled.

"So I did." He became serious. "Gordon, you guys were telling me I was a hero, but I was as scared as he was. It's not a crime to be scared. Whatever you think."

Gordon nodded.

"Thanks Alan. I just wish I could be down there with you right now."

"You are, brother. You're always with me wherever you are, didn't you know that? And I am up there with you too. But you look like you could use some company. How about I get dad to send Tintin up there to join you for a week? You could give her some training on Thunderbird Five, and she would be able to help out from time to time."

For the first time the semblance of a smile touched Gordon's lips.

"I think it's a great idea to train up Tintin, but right now you need her down there. Thanks Allie, you really have helped."

"Anytime big brother. Hey, it looks like I'll be grounded for a while anyway, so whenever you want to talk, or even to feast your eyes on my lovely face, just get Brains to give us this secure line again."

Gordon smiled, and almost before his image had vanished from the screen, Alan was asleep again, exhausted.

Alan recovered slowly. He was so weak, that his recovery was slower than it might otherwise have been. He slept much of the time, which worried his family a little, but a return visit of the family doctor reassured them that everything would be fine.

"Our patient is doing well. But plenty of warm sun would help this young man tremendously. Don't make him walk, put him in a wheelchair and make him comfortable somewhere where he can lay back in the sun, sleep if he needs to. The sun can go a long way to help his body get back some of the energy and nutrients he needs."

"Can I come off the liquid diet, doctor? Please?" Alan pleaded. The doctor grinned.

"The reason for your liquid diet is to give your body plenty of energy without having to use too much in digesting it all." He told him. "I would rather you were quite a lot stronger first, Alan. Give it two or three days."

He turned to Jeff.

"When you judge he is a little stronger, you can start him back on solid food again, but start slowly. Very small portions to begin with, and build it up gradually."

"Doctor, how long will it be before I can get back on duty?" Alan asked with a sideways glance at his father. The doctor considered.

"Presumably you would need to be completely back to fighting fitness? I would say probably three weeks or a month. The longer the better. Two weeks should have you back up and about as normal. A month or so and you will probably be strong enough to wrestle a shark."

Jeff Tracy thanked the man and led him to Virgil's bed. Virgil was fully dressed and sitting up on top of the bed, reading a book. Jeff handed the doctor an x-ray that Brains had taken that very morning in preparation. The doctor was impressed.

"Very good progress Virgil. Now, how long ago was this injury sustained?"

"It occurred the same time as Alan's injuries. That was precisely fifteen days ago now."

"Well the fracture is healing very well. No symptoms of concussion? Headache? Nausea?"

"Not now sir." Virgil replied.

"But you did?"

"Yes sir, it started about a week after the injury, and lasted until a couple of days ago. Now I feel normal and very fed up!"

"Very well. Give it another month, and you should be safe to go back on light duty... whatever that might entail for you guys. eight weeks will have you fighting that shark beside Alan here." He glanced back at Jeff.

"Does that help?"

Jeff grasped the man's hand.

"Thank you doctor. It's very good of you to be willing to agree to come here."

The doctor smiled.

"As one of my oldest friends Jeff, you are very welcome. Always remember your secrets are safe with me. Be well."

Scott looked up.

"Ready for a ride home?"

"In Thunderbird one?"

"No, in Tracy One. Alan's old biplane."

He grinned at the doctor's comical expression.

"Don't worry doc, it's stronger than it looks and it will attract less attention. Come along."

Once they had taken off, Jeff turned to Alan.

"So boy, an official excuse to spend every day lounging beside the pool. You too Virgil."

Virgil was looking glum.

"Yeah, but Two months before I can get back into Thunderbird Two? I'm gonna go mad with boredom by then!"

"Better safe than sorry. Head wounds take longer to heal than anything."

"...And what about poor Gordon, stuck up there in Thunderbird Five all that time?" Virgil concluded.

Jeff shook his head.

"No more than a month for anyone on the space station, that's the rule. Even under these circumstances. John, you were in the satellite for just two weeks when you were recalled, correct?"

John nodded, wondering what his father had in mind.

"Well, we'll let Gordon complete his month duty, slightly under two weeks; then you can take his place and finish your month. Just two weeks and two days I believe. By then Alan ought to be almost ready to take over. If not, I'll take over on Five, and dispatch and control from there. Either way that will give us eight weeks or so and you will be back on duty, Virgil. How does that sound to all of you?"

Alan nodded. He missed the island and the fresh air when he was on the satellite, but he enjoyed doing his spell of satellite relief, as it made him feel like a vital part of International Rescue, and he thoroughly enjoyed playing his part. This continuing weakness he was experiencing was very disheartening. He very much hoped that the doctor was right about him starting to regain his strength. Even a long conversation tended to exhaust him and send him off to sleep. The research his family had done, coupled with the doctor's observations made it clear that it was a perfectly normal reaction after having been in a coma.

A coma. Alan had heard of them of course, knew about comas in theory, but _he_ had actually been in a coma _himself_? Virgil's account of his brush with death, with the machine zapping him to bring him back, Scott manually pumping the airbag and Virgil himself shaking him in desperation... the whole account brought him out in a cold sweat. He felt somehow disjointed, disconnected to the whole episode, as though it had really happened to someone else, not to him, Alan Tracy. The thought of what had nearly happened, of what could have happened... there might so easily have been no more Alan Tracy. He blinked and shook his head, trying to fight back the frightening images. His family had been there. They had saved his life. Of course they had saved him, they were International Rescue. That's what they did, was save people who would have otherwise certainly died.

He looked down at his hands and saw to his dismay that they were shaking slightly. Why was he shaking? Was it shock? Alan had to admit to himself that he was still coming to terms with the reality of everything that had happened, as well as with what had nearly happened, both to himself and to Virgil, but there was more to it than that wasn't there? Gordon was certainly not alone in his fears for the future. He was definitely nervous about the next time. The next time he went out on a rescue, he would be piloting Thunderbird Two. He would not have Virgil's steady, reassuring presence to rely on, only Gordon the joker. What if something like this did happen again? Suddenly Alan found that he was no longer hungry.

*TOS episode "Terror in New York City"

** My Story "The Lightning Strike"

*** My Story "All in a days' work."


	6. Chapter 6 - A Penny's Worth

**A Penny's Worth…**

Two days later, Grandma and Tintin called Jeff Tracy downstairs to the kitchen as they had something important to show him. Full of wonder, Jeff hurried down. Rather than presenting him with some culinary delight, he found the two of them with very long and worried looking faces.

"What is it? What's up?" he asked, suddenly worried. In answer, Tintin pointed to a tray. The tray was Alan's breakfast, which he had send back downstairs again, untouched except for the small glass of orange juice.

"Mr. Tracy, this is the third morning in a row that Alan has refused to eat anything. He will only have a small glass of orange juice for breakfast, he maintains at lunchtime that he's not hungry, and at dinnertime..." Tintin began.

"At dinnertime he drinks a few mouthfuls of his high energy drink, then leaves most of it." Grandma continued. "He's sleeping a lot as the doctor said, but he's not getting any stronger. He seems to be getting weaker, and it has to be because he is unable or unwilling to eat anything."

Jeff frowned.

"Have you talked to Alan about it?"

They nodded vigorously.

"He just says he's not hungry, and he can't be bothered to argue about it."

Jeff sighed. Alan had been hungry enough a few days ago, and there was nothing wrong with him that time, good rest and good food would not cure, so what was this all about? Who would Alan talk to? Normally it would have been Tintin, but clearly not this time. If Alan had a problem that needed talking over, it should be himself., but the last thing any father should ever do was to try to force a confidence. Jeff knew from experience that to do things that way would backfire in the worst way, especially with a boy like Alan. `A boy like Alan', Jeff mocked himself. If Alan was nurturing some weakness or other, then this might be why he was not beating a path to his father's door. He still saw Alan as a boy. That mischievous young boy who had been capable of causing such chaos when he was small, who had caused almost disastrous chaos whilst at university, with his now infamous rocket experiments. And yet, the young man outside by the pool was a long way from either of those extremes. He was such a vital part of the team; he could not be replaced. He had matured in so many ways in the last few years, almost beyond all recognition. So who might he be willing to talk frankly with? Suddenly, he knew. He thanked the two women and told them he needed time to think about how to tackle Alan about it, and went upstairs to his desk. Time, he decided, to bring in the expert at detection and learning secrets. Time to call in Lady Penelope.

Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward excused herself to Lady Waverleigh as Parker entered the room with the telephone on a silver tray.

"Pardon me Madame, your ladyship, it is Mister Tracy on the telephone for you my lady, he says it is very important."

"Thank you Parker. Please excuse me for a moment, won't you Rosie?"

She took the phone.

"Hello, Jeff."

"Hello Penny. Parker said you have company with you, so I'll be quick. I need you to come to the island for a few days. I have a rather important challenge for you."

"Indeed?" Penny was intrigued, and ached to know more. "I'll be there this evening in time for supper."

"Thanks Penny. I'll tell you everything when you get here."

Jeff signed off and Penelope handed the phone back to Parker.

"Will that be all my lady?"

"For now, Parker, thank you."

Parker left the room and Lady Waverleigh grinned mischievously at her friend.

"Who is this mysterious fellow Jeff, Pen? Your new beau?"

Penny shook her head.

"Jeff Tracy, the ex-astronaut. He's an old friend. He's always on the lookout for promising new technologies and projects to invest in, and I..."

"Aaah, I get it! You get invited everywhere, so you always get to know everything that is happening, and you keep your eye open for him whenever you find something strapped for cash that you think will interest him."

"That's it exactly Rosie."

"He's little old for you Pen, but he's pretty wealthy isn't he? He'd be a great catch if you can get him."

Penny laughed.

"He's also a confirmed widower, Rosie."

"You just stick right in there, Pen. He'll weaken in time, you'll see."

"You're incorrigible Rosie!" Penny replied shaking her head in mock despair. Lady Waverleigh grinned.

"I Just keep hoping for you, that's all. Well, if you're off for a few days in the lap of luxury, I'd better be getting off home to my dilapidated old shed at Waverleigh."

Penny thought of her friend's `dilapidated old shed', a spacious mansion with twelve bedrooms and twenty-three acres of garden, all beautifully kept, and smiled.

The sun had dipped and was just above the horizon, glowing red and orange across the skies when Fab 1 landed at the island's air strip, and Parker drove the car into Thunderbird Two's hangar and they watched as the artificial cliff-face closed again behind them. They knew their way through the underground complex to the house like the back of their hand, and Jeff was waiting for them on the verandah. Parker bowed politely and vanished to take his place in the kitchen with Kyrano, whilst Penelope leaned on the rail beside Jeff. He was looking down below to the patio where Alan and Virgil were sitting, watching the sun go down, Scott and John beside them, both somehow giving the impression of nervous hens flapping around their chicks. It was the expression on Jeff's face that gave her the clue.

"Jeff, you've called me here because somehow you're still worried about the boys?"

"Penny, Virgil is a calm and practical young man. Nothing ever fazes him. He's frustrated because of the length of time it will take him to fully recover, but on the whole, he's absolutely fine. The only thing holding him back is worrying about Alan. That seems to be holding all of us back. He's still so very weak."

"Well Jeff, the poor boy was in a coma for a long time. Can you imagine how hard it must be to come back from something like that?"

"But he was doing so well at first, then three days ago he stopped eating. He seems to eat and drink as little as he can, and we can't get him to... he won't even talk about it."

Penny's heart bled for Jeff. He had been on his own for a long time bringing up his five sons, and he had done a sterling job with them. They were all boys to be very proud of. It seemed sometimes though, that with the work they were doing, day in and day out, with the danger and stresses that must place on them all, that Jeff occasionally forgot that they were in fact still very young. Young and as fallible as everyone else. Sometimes Jeff seemed to find it hard to balance being their father with being their commander in International Rescue. She smiled.

"Jeff, I think I understand."

"I knew you would Penny."

"But Jeff, if you'll forgive me for saying it, I think you are forgetting something."

"So mother keeps telling me, but she won't say what it is!"

"Well Jeff, imagine yourself in Alan's place. You are on a rescue, putting your own life and the lives of three of your brothers in danger in order to save the lives of a large group strangers, when one of them starts throwing rocks and bullets around. The next moment, you open your eyes, you are so weak you can hardly raise your eyelids, never mind your body, you learn that you had been shot, that you have been in a coma for nearly two weeks and that on at least one occasion you died, and were brought back. You start to feel a burden because you are taking up so much of their time that is needed elsewhere. You know it is not your fault, but at the same time you can't help feeling the way you do. It makes you start to think over and over in your mind about the event that started all of this in the first place. What happens when you get well and go back out there? What if something like that happens again? You know it isn't very likely, but if it happened once it could happen again. Could you have spotted that gun earlier? Was there anything you should have noticed that might have stopped all of this happening? You start to feel fear. Fear of what happened. Fear of what almost happened. Fear of what would happen to the organization if something like that ever happens again and you were to die next time. You find the whole thing takes away your appetite. The thought of eating makes you want to gag."

She turned and looked Jeff in the eye.

"He's not afraid of dying, Jeff. Alan is as courageous as a bear...they all are. He is going through severe trauma. What has happened to him is as traumatic as anything is likely to get. His body will heal at the regular pace, regardless of anything, but the mind Jeff. The mind cannot be forced to get in line the same way as the rest of the body. The mind will heal at its own pace. I believe that right now Alan is feeling that he has temporarily lost control over his life, and eating is the only thing he does have control over. It won't last forever, Jeff. Believe me, nagging him to eat will only make him worse. You need to tempt him with his favourites, but don't try and force him. As he starts to come to terms with what has happened, as he starts to get over the trauma of everything, he will start to feel more in control, he'll start to eat again."

"So what can we do to help him?"

"Be there for him. Be willing to listen if he needs to talk, don't try to make him talk if he doesn't want to. Make sure he knows how much he is loved and cared about, and that he does not have to try to fit in with any set timeline. If he thinks he has to be back to the man he was by a certain date in order to fit in with everyone else, that will only add to his feelings of being out of control. I know you need him fit and back on the job Jeff, but you can't force it. I know it is hard on you and the others but it is really important that you let Alan himself decide when he is ready to get back to work. Not you or the boys, not any doctor. Those boys have to face difficult situations every time they go out there, often facing death themselves if they fail. That takes a mental strength that is rare in people. Considering all he's been through and is going through, Alan is doing well I think. He will get it back, but only in his own time. The uncertainty is hard on you but if you leave him to want to get back to work, you may find that it comes a lot sooner than you think."

"I just need to take the pressure off?"

"Basically, you need to let him know that he can take as long as he needs to get well, that it is all up to him. You know how much International Rescue means to him don't you?" At his expression, she smiled.

"I know you know he cares about it Jeff, but that is an understatement. Alan is passionate about the organization. To be left behind, to watch you all going off without him would kill him. That will help him recover his spirits faster than anything else. Tell him he is wanted and needed but that he need come back only when he feels ready and he will quickly start to feel left out."

Jeff clutched at Penny's hand and squeezed it.

"Thank you Penny. I wonder why mother couldn't have told me all that? Why didn't I realize it myself?"

"Don't start kicking yourself Jeff. How many people are able to look at something objectively when they're stuck right in the middle of things?"

"...`I can't see the wood for the trees' as my grandpa would have said." Jeff replied. Penny nodded. "Why don't I go down there and relax by the pool? Make sure you don't spend all day sitting at your desk either Jeff Tracy. You have to come out and join us."

"I thought I would keep my distance..." he began, but she laughed at him. "If you do that, those boys will all be suspicious of my motives for being here." she smiled at him and turned away.

"See you by the pool!"

Alan was asleep again. He had been sleeping so much since coming out of his coma that his brothers just could not stop being worried about him. They talked quietly, afraid of disturbing him.

"The doctor did say that warm sun and sleeping a lot were good for him. Would help him to get his strength back." Virgil said softly. Scott nodded.

"Yeah, and he also said good food."

Virgil shook his head.

"Listen Scott, what does it matter if he can't eat very much? He's too weak to be able to digest it anyway. Sleeping is the best thing for him. He'll eat when he's hungry."

"But he's hardly eaten a thing for three days..."

"Actually Scott, "John put in, "He was in a coma for two weeks. It's been nearly three weeks since he's had a decent meal."

Virgil glared at him.

"John! My point is we all tend to lose our appetite if we get sick or injured. After Thunderbird Two was shot down that time and I was hurt, it took me a few days to get my appetite back, and I was not nearly as badly hurt as Alan is. He has a lot to get over. I say give him a break. Let him get over it in his own way."

"Hello boys!"

The three young men looked round and smiled as Lady Penelope came down the steps wearing a pink swimsuit modestly covered by a full length sarong, and holding a lacy parasol.

"Lady Penelope! It's good you were able to come and see us at last."

"Hello Scott, John. How is Gordon coping with his first tour of duty in the satellite?"

"Getting used to it by now I think." John replied. "It's just the being alone that gets you at first. Fortunately for me I was able to call home for a chat every night until I got used to it. Gordon has been trying not to, knowing how much was happening here. Still, dad won't let any of us stay there for more than a month at a time, so he won't have too much longer to go."

Penny nodded. She glanced toward the still sleeping Alan, noting the paleness of his face. He looked almost as white as marble, his face thin, cheeks slightly pinched. No wonder Jeff and the boys were worrying about him. Poor Alan. Still, he was a fighter. Perhaps they had forgotten that fact. Penny suspected that Alan might have forgotten it too for the time being, but a fighter he was. She winked at the others and strolled along the side of the pool until she was standing beside Alan, then without warning she jumped high in the air, tucked herself into a ball and landed in the pool with an enormous splash. A cascade of water flew up in the air and drenched poor Alan from head to foot. He awoke with a start, blinking water out of his eyes glaring round in annoyance for the culprit, and found himself watching Lady Penelope climbing out of the pool and smiling apologetically.

"I'm sorry Alan! I couldn't resist the pool, it's such a hot day!"

He nodded.

"Good to see you Lady Penelope."

"I'm happy to see you too Alan. Well, I'll try not to drown you this time. I'll be here for a few days, so when you feel up to taking a swim and fancy company, give me a shout."

"I will."

He watched without comment as she made a beautiful swallow dive, with hardly a ripple, swimming the length of the pool under water before coming up for air, almost smiled, then leaned back and closed his eyes once more.


	7. Chapter 7 - Helping Alan

**Author's note:**

Sadly, nearing the end of this story. Just another two or three chapters and we should be there…thank you everyone for following and reviewing. If I try to put it off too long, everyone will get bored! Do please keep reading (and reviewing). Let's see what happens next…

 **CHAPTER SEVEN**

 **HELPING ALAN**

Jeff Tracy sat alone in his office, thinking over everything Penny had said. Even now through the window he could see Scott and John hovering over their baby brother like a couple of worried mother hens. If Penny was correct in her assessment, they should do everything in their power to help Alan, sure, but, however difficult it might be for them, act like it was business as usual for International Rescue. Alan could not help but be aware of the fact that his brothers were worrying about him and caring about him, and no doubt it made him feel safe and secure. That was a good thing; but in the face of trauma, there are always two ways of handling it. By facing it head on, or just burying your head in the sand and hiding, or at the risk of mixing metaphors, running away from it. He needed to talk to them.

He pressed a button on his desk that activated the comms panel, and selected Scott's personal wrist-comm. Scott's face appeared a moment later.

"Scott here. Dad, is everything ok?"

"I need you and John to report to my office right away Scott."

"Yes sir. Right now?" Scott looked slightly puzzled. If there had been any kind of emergency, Gordon from orbit would have activated the emergency siren. Jeff raised a single eyebrow.

"Now Scott. On the double!"

"Yes father."

Scott glanced up at John and cocked his head.

"On the double!" he repeated. "Sorry Lady Penelope, see you later."

Penny nodded, watching them go, smiling slightly.

"I wonder what that was all about?" Virgil murmured, watching his brothers leaving. Penny offered him her hand.

"I wonder if you would escort me to the look-out point?"

"I'd rather sit with…"

"Please Virgil? It would mean a lot…"

Half reluctantly, Virgil got up and walked with the beautiful aristocrat along the beach until they came to the stone staircase; a pathway hewn by hand up the cliff face and round the island until it culminated in a wide square platform, through the centre of which the satellite relay tower projected. This was the uppermost point on the entire island, with clear and outstanding views in every direction. It made Penny gasp in appreciation every time she came up here, and even Virgil was momentarily struck dumb at the incredible scene. Swiftly enough though, his mind came back to his youngest brother, now lying alone down by the pool.

"What is this Lady P?"

"I just needed to talk to you."

"All the way up here? Couldn't we have talked downstairs where we were?"

"Yes, but I need…just hear me out please Virgil, and you will understand."

"I hope so."

"You are all worried that young Alan is not bouncing back from this as quickly as you were all expecting, right?"

Virgil nodded.

"I guess…but he was in a coma a long time…I guess that would take some getting over."

Penny nodded.

"That is true Virgil, but your father was concerned that Alan appeared to have lost his will to fight back."

Tears sprung unbidden to Virgil's eyes, as her comment hit home, but he ignored them, and stared at her almost fiercely.

"He was doing amazingly well at first…then he suddenly stopped eating. Now he won't eat, and hardly drinks either, he is getting weaker again…"

He turned his back on her and gazed over the rail down into the jungle for along moment, and then turned back to face her, his eyes very intense.

"We're all in shock Lady P, in one way or another. That's what it is, right? Shock and trauma? That's why he is sleeping all the time. Strong emotions are easier to ignore when you just sleep. Staying awake means you have to face and fight."

His companion nodded.

"You are a medic, Virgil. You know as well as anyone that only Alan can decide to face his trauma. We all face things like this in different ways. You face it by focusing your attention on helping others. Scott and John largely by keeping busy. But whilst you are all doing right by trying to help your brother all you can and showing him you care, you are not giving him any reason to fight his way back."

Virgil frowned.

"What do you mean by that? Just leave him on his own all day?"

"No, but you are all tip-toeing around all the time, pleading with him to eat, avoiding talking about your missions, your successes and failures, your problems and achievements. You are unintentionally reinforcing the fact that he has a lot to be afraid of."

There was a long silence whilst Virgil digested her words. He could see the sense in it. The solution though?

"So what's the answer?" he asked finally. Penny considered.

"Do you remember that business with the Hood several years ago? I brought Alan and Fermat home for their break, you guys all returned from a mission and were full of excited chatter about what happened and about everything that went on. How did Alan respond?"

Virgil thought back. In retrospect it was easy to recognize the desperation on the young Alan's face, the _hunger_ almost, to have been a part of the mission, to have been included in the discussion afterwards. Instead he had been put down sharply with a comment about homework and retainers. Virgil remembered clearly the look on his little brother's face as he had walked away. The memory of it made his heart ache. Penny smiled.

"That was an indication of how Alan felt about International Rescue then, when he was a schoolboy banished even from the base for several months out of the year. His feelings for the organization have not changed, Virgil. Even now they are still there, hidden away beneath the fear. Rather than, as my grandmother used to say, `mollycoddling' him, it would be better to try and get those feelings of his back to the surface again. For Scott and John, showing enthusiasm for going out on rescues, and being full of the excitement of it when they return. You being affected by their excitement and being honest about how fed up you are at being forced to stay home for so long when you actually feel perfectly normal. That's is correct, right?"

"Stop being so solicitous?"

"Not at all. Be as solicitous as you want. You need to stop treading on eggshells. There is nothing so infectious as enthusiasm. If you want your little brother back to the man he was sooner rather than later, then you need to bubble over with zeal and enthusiasm for International Rescue in his presence. Don't be afraid of letting him catch it. It's what he needs."

Virgil nodded.

"And right now? When he wakes up down there and finds himself on his own for the first time?"

"I hate to sound callous, Virgil, but it won't hurt him. He knows you all have jobs to do. If he needs something in particular, he has his communicator."

"Try and find a way to keep him reassured that he is loved and wanted and needed, and that we'll do all we can for him for as long as he needs us, but at the same time, remind him how much he loves his job by showing how much we love ours?"

Penelope nodded.

"That is basically what your father is saying to Scott and John. Grandma and Tintin are within calling distance if Alan wakes up and needs something…that is if Tintin can stop herself from rushing down there to sit with him in your absence Virgil."

"One thing that might do it would be a Space Special."

"Space Special?"

Virgil grinned.

"We are all able to fly one another's ships, Penny. Sometimes we have no choice, if one of us is sick or injured. But we all do know our own ships the best. John's a great pilot, and I hear he is doing a great job with Thunderbird 2, but he doesn't know the bird half as well as I do. He doesn't know all of her possibilities, and capabilities like I do. None of us know Thunderbird 5 like John does. He knows every single detail about her; To me she's a clunking great space station. To John, she's a finely tuned musical instrument that he plays to perfection. None of us, not John or even dad knows Thunderbird 3 like Alan. He is in fact, technically speaking, the best pilot of all of us, and he flies the fastest and most powerful ship, but we've seen Alan fly Thunderbird 3 through an asteroid field, without touching a single asteroid, and without losing very much speed. To see him at his controls is like watching someone performing some kind of dance, and he does it so smoothly, almost like he isn't trying."

Virgil was smiling now, his admiration for his baby brother shining through.

"A `Space Special' mission, one that would require Alan's own special expertise would make him remember how important he is."

"True, but Virgil, what Alan doesn't need is pressure, feeling that he has to conform right now or everything will come tumbling around your ears. He is feeling out of control now. Feeling that he has no choice about anything will only make him feel worse."

Virgil nodded.

"I appreciate your concern Lady P. We'll follow your advice the best we can. Is that why you splashed him earlier when you jumped in the pool?"

She laughed outright.

"Normally you would all have done that to him for a joke, but you've all been babying him. It's not even occurred to any of you that a touch of normality might be the best thing for him. So I splashed, and he didn't yell at me did he?"

Virgil had to think about that.

Half an hour later, Alan woke up to the sounds of squeals and yells. It had been so respectfully quiet recently, he wondered what was going on. He suppressed a smile as he saw his father, fully dressed in a suit and tie complete with bowler hat soaking wet and chasing Lady Penelope and Tintin round and round the pool, across the patio, through the house and back again until finally he caught up with them. The girls both yelled as he gave them a push toward the pool, and at the last moment, they reached out and pulled him in with them. All three landed in the deep water with an enormous splash! Scott and Virgil were standing beside the diving board in their swim things laughing, whilst Parker perched on the top step, filming the whole scene on a videocam, and broad grin cracking his face.

Alan glanced round and finding no one close enough to speak to without calling out, he swung himself round so that he was sitting up on the lounger, his feet resting on the tiled floor. He tried to stand, but found he was too dizzy and flopped back disheartened. A moment later he found Scott beside him offering him an arm.

"You okay Sprout?"

"Don't call me that. I'm fine, just too dizzy for a moment. Can I hang on to you until it goes away?"

"Sure. Did you see what just happened?"

Alan shook his head.

"Oh Alan, sorry, you must have been asleep. Dad came down in his office gear…thinking about flying out to the Tracy Industries Head Office, when Lady P and Tintin snuck up from behind and pushed him into the pool. He came up with the bowler hat still stuck firmly on his head! I haven't laughed like that for ages."

Alan grinned.

"I saw the chase. That was pretty good. I would have loved to see dad go in the first time though. It's just it's so hard to stay awake, you know?"

Scott's heart went out to his little brother.

"Hey, you need the sleep. It's no sweat. I think Parker was filming it, so if you're polite to him later, he might give you a private showing. You seem a little steadier now. Are you okay, or should I walk beside you just in case? Or would you rather I carry you?"

Alan still fondly remembered Scotty carrying him when he was a toddler, but that would hardly be fitting now would it? He shook his head, grinning.

"I'm heavier than I used to be Scotty. No, I just need to stretch my legs, but I'd be glad of the company if you're at a loose end."

The two young men walked slowly around the perimeter of the swimming pool, and Scott took Alan's arm to help steady him as he climbed the steps to the patio. There they stopped. The large table had been laid out with a wide array of food; sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs' devilled eggs, mini pasties, hot pizza slices, potato salad, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, cucumber slices, cheeses, fresh rolls, baked ham, roasted chicken, fruit, jellies(jello), treacle tarts, cookies, scones with strawberry jam (jelly), and right in the centre of the table on a plinth of its own sat a magnificent looking chocolate gateau. Scott's eyes widened.

"Wow! Look at that!"

Alan looked and frowned. It all looked delicious…he loved devilled eggs, and as for chocolate gateau…but he wasn't hungry. He hadn't been hungry now for a few days. Perhaps he should just go to bed? He looked up at grandma and Tintin who with Tintin's father Kyrano must have slaved to get all of this ready. They would be hurt if he walked away without even trying something…and those devilled eggs did look so good…

From their position up in the lounge, Jeff and grandma watched as the family gathered around the laden table, Alan among them leaning only slightly on Scott's arm. They could see even from this distance a familiar light in the young man's eyes as he surveyed the food, although right now he had made no move to take anything. Jeff turned and smiled at his mother.

"You did good ma." He told her with a twinkle. "and what would we do without Penny?" a thought struck him and he turned and looked straight at her.

"Mother, that advice Penny gave me, that explained what was wrong with Alan…you knew all along. Why didn't you tell me when I asked?"

"Oh my dear." She sighed, gazing out at her grandchildren enjoying their meal, her sharp eyes picking out the blond Alan among the throng nibbling on a devilled egg.

"My dear son, I didn't know the actual _problem_. I just knew, mostly from experience, what to _do_ …but to tell you how to help without telling you the reason would have seemed…"

Jeff nodded his understanding. He wrapped an arm around her waist and hugged her close.

"You do know, mother, that you are under orders to live forever, don't you?"

She chuckled.

"I've always known it. I promise to do my very best. Come on son, let's go down and get some food before your sons eat the lot!"


	8. Chapter 8 - An Impossible Mission?

**Author's note:** I have taken the liberty of including mention of the GDF in this chapter, even though it was not something specifically mentioned in any episode of the original series, upon which this story is based. I have no doubt that they were there in the background all the same, still doing their part in keeping global peace.

 **Chapter Eight**

 **An Impossible mission?**

"We rarely get the chance of any sort of holiday!" Alan remarked as he relaxed in the back seat of FAB 1 beside Lady Penelope. "How come you're taking me with you now?"

The pretty blonde aristocrat smiled at him.

"Your brothers have all been waiting on you, it's our turn now, that's all. Parker thinks you need feeding up…he's right by the way Alan, you've gone terribly skinny, you know."

"Hmmm." Alan replied. "I've not been very hungry lately, but I'll do my best, honest. But why now? Where are we going, anyway? This is not the direction for your estate in England."

"No. I have a little place in Australia."

Alan grinned.

"Little? A farm the size of an entire county back in England."

"Come now, that's an exaggeration!"

"No it isn't M'Lady!" came Parker's voice from the front seat. "I get saddle sore just riding round the perimeter fence!"

Lady Penelope smiled.

"But Lady P, why are you bringing me with you anyway? I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I was perfectly contented at home."

"I know you were Alan, but you've been through a lot these last couple of weeks. Everyone felt that a complete change of scene would help you to…"

Alan nodded. He was not completely ignorant after all. At the back of his mind an irritating little voice kept muttering about getting him out of the way so that the rest of the family could focus more on International Rescue. The reality though, Alan knew, was that his family worried about him so much and were so intent on trying to help him recover, and wait on him hand and foot, and there were other vital duties being neglected that were starting to become urgent. He was pretty much recovered now physically. A couple of weeks and his wounds would be just scars destined to fade. His main problems seemed to be weakness which he now had been made to realize was at least in part down to his refusal to eat; and something in his head, some kind of mental block, that kept him from wanting anything more to do with International Rescue.

He still loved the organization, its principles and goals, and he still remembered clearly the thrill he felt whenever he sat in the pilots' position in Thunderbird 3 and felt the enormous thrust behind her powerful engines as they lifted off and powered through the atmosphere to the cold embrace of orbit and beyond. He recalled also the determination and intensity that gripped them all when he and his brothers charged off in Thunderbirds 1 and 2, intent on saving people from broken cable cars, speeding trains, crashes, planes in trouble, and yes, collapsing buildings like the last mission. The determination to save lives, all the lives they could regardless of the cost…that was the guiding tenet of International Rescue was it not? Those were the terms that dad had laid down right at the beginning. Alan had been very young at the time, but that principle had impressed him even then. If that was the guiding principle behind the organization, then what was it that was holding him back now? Had he changed his mind about that? Did he now feel that other people's lives mattered less to him now than they had done before? Because if that was true then he had no place on Tracy Island any longer. He would be better to be honest with his family and with himself; not to return to the island. Perhaps take a job on Lady P's Australian farm? Did that sound a better option?

He frowned to himself. It scared him that for the time being at least, he wasn't completely sure of the answers. He knew, suddenly, beyond all doubt why he was here, and it had nothing to do with his brothers being distracted by wanting to help him, or about being behind with their maintenance schedule. This trip with Lady P was about Alan himself. His father and brothers, and lady Penelope had decided that Alan was not going to recover any further until he had resolved in his own mind what he wanted to do. They all wanted to help him but had sent him on a short break so that he could try and sort himself out on his own terms. So that once he was resolved in his mind what he wanted, he would be able to focus his entire energy on reaching that goal.

He blinked hard as he felt the hot prick of tears in the corner of his eyes. He was aware how greatly his presence was needed back on duty, especially with Virgil out of the picture for at least another six weeks. Dad and Scott and the others thought so much of him that they were determined that whatever decision he made, he would be able to make it without interference, that he would make his way back by his own choice…or not.

When they arrived _Chez Penelope,_ Parker's strong arm led Alan into the house and into a large room that Alan was certain must have been the lounge. It had a wide window and a verandah that afforded panoramic views across the incredible vista…the flowers, vegetables and fruit trees close to the house, and the unimaginably vast planes beyond where, out of sight, were Lady Penelope's thousands of heads of cattle and sheep. In a position perfect for the views was a chaise longue which looked so inviting, that Alan suddenly couldn't wait to try it out. He looked round, his mouth half open.

"Wow!" Was all he could find to say.

"Do you want to rest now, Alan, or do you fancy the grand tour first?"

Completely stunned, Alan opted for the tour of the house. He was amazed at the views from every room. It seemed that the house had been built deliberately with all-round views. The bedrooms were all on the ground floor with verandahs or patios. Upstairs, the entire floor was open plan and surrounded entirely by a vast sea of glass. The views were spectacular.

"Why don't you live here all year round?" Alan asked, still staring round open-mouthed. Parker answered for her.

"Coz this place is murder on me legs Mister Tracy!" He declared. "The dining room is up 'ere in the lounge and the kitchen is down at the bottom of the stairs…up and down the stairs all the time plays 'avoc wiv' me knees!"

"Oh come now Parker!" Penelope chided him gently. "You're as fit as a fiddle and you know it! The actual reason is that the temperature out here can become unbearably hot sometimes, and neither Parker nor I are accustomed to it…but this time of year its fairly reasonable."

"An' we'll only be 'ere for a couple o' days." Parker concluded. "Cuppa tea M'Lady?"

TB TB TB TB

Scott, John and Virgil were missing their little brother terribly, but had very little time to think about it. With orders from their father ringing in their ears, coupled with reminders and gentle nagging from Gordon in orbit, they were inspired to set to work on their maintenance work. Once again Virgil was feeling like an odd shoe, unable to do anything to strain himself, he was consigned to becoming Brains' assistant…the one to pass him things, and fetch and carry light loads…and providing the tea.

Jeff Tracy was keeping himself busy too. He had enrolled the assistance of Tintin and Gordon in Thunderbird 5 and was going over the communications systems with a fine toothed comb. Brains had already given him some advice on potential problems, and he had not become an ace astronaut himself in his prime without knowing a thing or two about communications. Tintin, as Brains' primary assistant was more than capable of working in his stead. Everyone was thoroughly immersed in their tasks, when the alarms went off so suddenly that to a man (and woman) they all jumped. Gordon was on the video com before Jeff could blink.

"International Rescue this is Thunderbird Five. We have an emergency."

"Go ahead Gordon."

"The Mars Explorer Expedition has sent us an SOS. The crew have been on the surface of the planet for the past month carrying out experiments and studies, and their mother-ship was in an automated parking orbit. They were supposed to return to their vessel in their surface-hopper in order to return home. No one was left on board the mother-ship because it was deemed impossible that anything mechanical could go wrong."

"But something has?"

"Mechanically, no father. The problem is that the ship has been hit by asteroids and knocked out of orbit. The ship crash landed on the surface of Mars, and has no propulsion system to get her flying again. If International Rescue cannot help them, the crew will die."

"How long do they have?"

"Five days' oxygen and water, three days' food packs…if they're careful."

"It will take us five days' to get to Mars at full speed if nothing goes wrong, and we won't be able to land on the surface of Mars because of the fuel expenditure. One orbit of the planet before returning home is best we can hope for…thank you Gordon, let them know we will do what we can. We'll have to discuss our options. We'll get back to you."

"Yes, father."

Scott, Gordon and Virgil were in Jeff's office already, and as they sat and stared at each other, they all knew, deep down, that this was going to be one of their most tricky assignments to date.

"So." Jeff said, looking round at his sons. "John, you are back up pilot for Thunderbird 3. How do you feel about a round trip to Mars?"

"No problem with piloting the ship, father, but I wish I was more familiar with her systems. I've not flown her enough to be completely familiar with all of her capabilities, and if something goes wrong and we have to improvise…"

"That isn't the only problem." Scott pointed out. "We fly out there flat out in order to reach those guys in time, we'll use double the fuel, and if something happens, there's a chance we may not have enough fuel left to make the return trip. It's one thing flying towards the sun to rescue those guys stuck in their shuttle, but Mars is much further away, and even we can only carry so much fuel on board."

Jeff nodded.

"Well I'm open to suggestions…ah Brains, good. You're here. You've been monitoring I imagine?"

"Yes. Sir, a.a. I'm afraid Scott is right that although we can certainly make it there on time, but it could mean our spacecraft would have insufficient fuel left for the return trip."

Virgil frowned.

"But there must be something we can do?"

The five men all seemed at a loss for the moment. The one person whose experience might have helped the most at this moment was at present thousands of miles away in Australia.

"We could make some modifications to Thunderbird 3 to enable her to carry more fuel?"

"How? It would jeopardize the safety of the craft." Brains replied unhappily. "The only way is to travel at a slower speed thereby using the minimal amount of fuel. I calculate that if we were to travel at the optimal fuel efficient speed, we would arrive in six days, and have sufficient fuel to return safely, plus have a small safety margin. There is only one problem with that…"

"Yes." Scott replied sourly. "They'll all be dead by the time we get there."

Jeff looked round at his sons.

"Well, we are going to need to come up with a plan and fast."

The five men fell into silence, each thinking furiously. How would they achieve the impossible this time? It was simply…impossible…

TB TB TB TB

Alan's eyes opened wide. What was that? He leaned forward and turned the sound up on the radio. Immediately the newscaster's voice was heard clearly...

 _"…And are not expected to be able to survive for more than five days without assistance. No space vehicle available to the Global Space Agency can get to Mars any sooner than three months, so the entire world now looks to International Rescue in the hope that they have the capability of reaching our redoubtable crew in time…"_

Alan snapped off the radio and sat back in his chair, deep in thought. This would be a difficult one, Alan knew. Thunderbird 3 could get to Mars in five days easily enough, but only by steaming it all the way, but it would be touch and go whether they would be able to make it all the way home again, and what about the mechanics of the rescue once they arrived?

A couple of pods? The pods were not designed to work in zero gravity. The only way to rescue that crew would be for them to launch themselves in their own surface-hopper and dock with Thunderbird 3 in orbit using that, but if they had to survive for five days on the freezing surface of Mars, they will have likely used up their entire energy reserves. How would they get the thing off the ground?

Alan frowned and shook his head. Perhaps he was thinking this all the wrong way. The fact was there was no way they could possibly get there in time to save all the men _and_ get them safely home again, so the other alterative had to be to try and find a way to keep the men alive until International Rescue arrived. Alan's keen mind immediately started coming up with possibilities, only to discard them the next moment.

TB TB TB TB

Ninety minutes passed and still International Rescue had not come up with an acceptable solution. They had regressed almost to the point of arguing, so great was their disappointment that there was nothing they could do this time. The Comms bleeped and Gordon's face came on.

"Guys, I'm getting increasing speculation from around the world at what International Rescue are going to do this time. Have you come up with a rescue plan yet?"

Brains shook his head.

"I must be tired. I can't think of any way to get there and save those men. We need more time…there has to be a way…there just has to be…" Brains fell silent. The others said nothing. Brains had said it all for them. Gordon looked disappointed, but he had nothing more helpful to offer. The comms beeped again. This time it was Alan. Alan looked feverish, his hair standing up on end as though he had been running his fingers through it, but his eyes were dancing.

"Alan! Are you all right?"

"Fine, thanks John. Have you guys decided what you're gonna do about that stranded crew on Mars?"

Jeff shook his head.

"We know what needs to be done but there's so safe way to…"

Alan shook his head, his enthusiasm seemingly bubbling over. This was the Alan they all remembered! Alan interrupted.

"I know, I know, there's no way to save them in that time frame. We can get there, but we'd either have to land Thunderbird 3, or they would have to take off in their surface-hopper and dock with Thunderbird 3 themselves, but they'll have run out of energy by then...we'd only make it half way home before running out of fuel ourselves."

"We've been through it all Alan, and we're stumped." Scott told him frankly, "I don't suppose you have any other ideas?"

"We can't get there safely that soon, so that idea is out of the window." Alan replied, and he turned to Brains. "Brains, isn't there some way we can get supplies to them faster? Something to keep them alive until International Rescue can get there? I was just thinking, they need oxygen, water, some extra food packs and a couple of solar batteries…"

"But Alan, how would we get them there? Thunderbird 3 is the fastest rocket ship on Earth!"

Alan nodded.

"I realize that, but what about a missile? If we disarmed a missile and programmed it to land using a parachute rather than burying itself in the ground, we could fill it up with supplies couldn't we? It wouldn't have to be a particularly large one…we need only send them enough stuff for an extra few days…"

Jeff's eyebrows rose into his hairline, and Alan could hear his brothers exclaiming variations of "What? Are you mad!?" Brains however looked thoughtful at first, and then excited.

"Alan, that is a great idea! I can get the survival packs together within an hour, but we need the Global Defense Force to get them there…"

Alan shook his head.

"What about the Leviathan? The GDF's orbital space ship is not built for speed or grace, but it has powerful rocket launchers. You can take off in Thunderbird 3 and rendezvous with the Leviathan and get them to alter the missile and fire it off…"

"I have a better idea Alan." Gordon put in, who was still monitoring the discussion. "I have regulation survival packs on board Thunderbird 5…they contain all those things and more. I could contact the Leviathan myself and get them to rendezvous with me here. They can get the missile doctored and fired off before Thunderbird 3 gets off the ground. A missile launched from the Leviathan would reach Mars in…what, seventeen or eighteen hours or so?"

Jeff Tracy looked at the engineer.

"Brains, can you get the proper coordinates and details ready for Gordon to pass on to the Leviathan?"

Brains was grinning now.

"No problem. Give me…ten minutes. Gordon, can you prepare the packs then, and contact the Leviathan for us? Tell them I will transmit all coordinates and necessary data directly to them as soon as they are ready to fire."

Gordon nodded, beaming.

"FAB."

Jeff looked up at Alan on the screen.

"Thank you Alan. You've saved the day. Okay John, looks like you're on. I'll be your co-pilot. Scott, I need you to keep things going here until we get back. If you need to go out on a call, Virgil is well enough to run the talk-back. Thunderbirds are go!"


	9. Chapter 9 -Who Can Rescue Scott?

**Chapter Nine**

 **Who Can Rescue Scott?**

Scott Tracy's head ached. He cradled a mug of coffee in his hands as he sat at his father's desk. It seemed a waste of time going any further away. Each time he tried, some call would come in and he would be summoned straight out. Things could have been going better for International Rescue right now. People of the world were continuing to call for help and assistance, without realizing that even for an organization as amazing as International Rescue, resources were limited. In this instance of course, resources meaning _people_.

He had Virgil of course, who could have been sitting here at this desk, but Scott couldn't stop worrying about him as much he had had been worrying about Alan. He would put Virgil here if he had to, but not before.

Dad and John were on their way to Mars right now. They were due to arrive within the next few hours. Alan's ingenious solution had worked perfectly, of course. The men on Mars were now supplied with enough water, food and oxygen to keep them going for another six days, just in case something happened to delay Thunderbird Three arriving at the rescue zone. So far, so good. But of course, Scott reflected, all of this left him largely on his own. He had Brains and Tintin, but neither of them were equipped to pilot any of the Thunderbirds. Alan was, but he was still in Australia with Lady Penelope and Parker. After Alan's initial call, Scott had heard nothing from him at all. Dad's orders originally had been to leave Alan alone to get his head together without interference. If Alan was ever going to return to full strength, it had to be because he wanted to, not because his father and brothers were begging him. What Scott wanted more than anything else was to beg Alan to come back. Instead, he sat back in dad's chair and took another sip of his coffee.

The silly thing was, even Gordon was stranded in orbit now, because of Thunderbird Three being so far away. Scott could have put Brains or Tintin up there as a temporary measure in order to get a second pair of experienced hands on the ground, so to speak, but as it was, things would have to stay the way they were until Dad and John got back from Mars…what, another six or seven days? Scott had not managed to get more than a couple of hours sleep at a time all week. In fact, how long had it been since he had had more than a few hours in a row to call his own?

"Mister Scott, are you all right?"

Scott jumped, and his coffee sloshed over the table. He put the mug down and leapt back, cursing himself fretfully. Kyrano touched his shoulder.

"I will clean up the mess, but you are tired. Sleep, Please."

"I can't. What if an emergency comes in?"

"I will wake you. Sleep now."

More tired than he had ever been before, Scott had only enough energy to walk slowly over to the sofa, where he grabbed a pillow for his head and lay down. Within seconds he was fast asleep. Virgil put his head round the door and winked at Kyrano.

"Well done Kyrano. He wouldn't do that for me."

"What will you do if another call _does_ come in Mister Virgil?"

"Hope it doesn't."

Kyrano looked at him and Virgil shrugged. Scott had had just about enough for the time being. No one in the outside world knew that International Rescue comprised just five operators and couple of support staff. The impression always seemed to be that because expense and technology seemed to be unlimited, so would manpower be too. Scott had been running the place pretty much alone for over five days now. No Virgil, no Alan. Virgil knew exactly what would happen if another call came in. Scott needed sleep. Not wanted, _needed_! Virgil would go out himself if need be. To hell with doctors' orders. He would go and take Tintin along. Kyrano was certain in his own mind what Virgil was planning, and he cleaned the spilt coffee in silence, secretly hoping that for the first time in a while, things might go smoothly.

When the comms bleeped an hour later, sounding deafening in the silence, Scott did not stir. Virgil activated the video com to Thunderbird Five.

"Gordon! How is everything up there?"

Gordon's impish grin made Virgil feel better immediately.

"All silence up here Virge. How's Scotty? He's been looking pretty peaky the last day or so. I'm getting worried about him."

Virgil nodded.

"Join the club. He asleep at the moment. If something else comes up Gordon, I'm going out myself. Scott's had it."

"But what about the doctors?"

"Forget the doctors Gordon, what about Scott? He can't carry on alone for another seven days, whatever he thinks. Unless we send out a priority message to stand International Rescue down for a week on account of its operators being too exhausted."

Gordon looked shocked.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course not, but there comes a time when enough is enough."

Gordon looked pensive.

"I know dad said we should leave him alone, but…we could give Alan a call…"

Virgil heaved a sigh.

"I know, and believe me I have thought about it, but…I think we should leave that as the last possible option. Alan has been very sick. We did almost lose him."

Gordon nodded. Knowledge of that event was seared into his memory, the more so because he hadn't been able to be there to help. He would have been coming back down to Tracy Island about now if it hadn't been for this Martian emergency, but he was going nowhere for now. Gordon still ached to see his little brother face to face, to touch him, reassure himself that he was really all right. He smiled at Virgil.

"I have a call to make Virge…I'll get back to you later."

"Okay, `bye Gordon." Virgil replied, but the screen was already dark.

TB TB TB TB

Lady Penelope sat with teacup in hand, sighing in relief as she felt the slight breeze waft her hair in the cool of the evening. She had never stayed here so long, but Alan seemed to have settled in. It had taken a couple of days, but especially following his conversation with his family, being able to offer assistance at a critical moment, according to Parker, Alan had started to eat his meals again. Penelope had firmly instructed Parker to be discreet about it, not to say anything to Alan, but to simply discreetly watch him. She was determined not to do or say anything that could be construed as interfering…even though she secretly longed to. But Alan certainly seemed a great deal stronger now. He no longer slept all day, but spent his time outside, strolling round the farm, helping to care for the animals or simply playing video games. How long would it be prudent to keep this up before declaring an end to this impromptu holiday? She expected that Alan would be bored by now. There was certainly more to keep him busy on Tracy Island than there could ever be here.

Alan sat on the verandah, swinging his legs and simply enjoying having nothing to do and nowhere to go. He had begun eating his meals a few days ago, simply to avoid hurting Parker's feelings; but for the last couple of days he had suddenly found that he enjoyed them. When the next meal was ready, he found himself hungry for it, and finished up every bite without any struggle. Grandma would be pleased with me, Alan decided, remembering the worried looks he received from her back home when he started sending his meals back untouched. I feel better for it too. He realized what was happening of course. Eating proper food was finally giving his body the energy it had been yearning for. Now it was regularly being fed energy, it had energy to spare, and Alan was well enough to exercise. Taking exercise was using up energy which made him hungry, and so on…

What had made him lose his appetite in the first place? Alan remembered well enough. The fear of a repeat performance of that last fiasco, the fear that something worse could happen next time. That was one of the things that had been worrying Gordon, and yet Alan had comforted Gordon easily enough. Why had he not been able to do as much for himself? It didn't matter. Right here, nothing ever happened, so why worry himself? Here was a long way from anywhere else. Away from idiots with guns or anything else.

In the distance he heard a familiar beeping. He frowned, wondering where he had heard it before? Then Parker was behind him with his communicator on a silver platter.

"For you Master Alan sir."

"For me? Thanks Parker."

It was his wrist-watch of course, with the built in video-com. He saw Gordon's smiling face and a cheeky wave. Alan grinned.

"Hey Gordo!"

"Alan! Needed a familiar face to chat to."

"You still stuck up on Five?"

"No other choice until dad and John get back from their mission. I'm not used to being on my own this long, with no one to listen to my jokes."

Alan stared for a moment, then his eyes opened wide.

"Mars!"

Gordon nodded.

"They're nearly there. Of course, it'll be another six or seven days before they get back, so poor Scotty is having to snatch sleep whenever he can, poor thing. I guess he'll be happy to take a…"

Alan interrupted.

"Gordo, Scotty's on his own? Just Scott and Brains and Tintin?"

"Virgil's there but he…"

"Is still on sick-leave…"

Gordon held up his hand.

"Hey, sorry Alan, I didn't mean to worry you, I was just feeling sorry for myself and needed something else besides a microphone to talk to. Scotty's okay. Virgil's taking care of him. You know what Virgil's like, especially while he's not allowed to get on with anything else."

"But Gordon, dad must have known that he and John would be gone for almost two weeks. Why didn't he say something?"

He shook his head. Dad shouldn't have needed to say anything. It was Alan who should be in Thunderbird Three right now, not John. If Alan had been piloting the ship, Tintin could have come along as assistant, and that would have left plenty of hands for anything that came up. Now, Scott was left dealing with every single rescue that came up single handedly. Why had he not thought about this himself right at the beginning? He was there, talking to the guys on the comm, he should have realized right away that it would mean Scotty being left alone…

Gordon was beginning to look worried at Alan's increasingly red face.

"Hey kiddo, are you all right?"

"Yes, no, I don't know. Gordon, why did no one call me and remind me that I was needed?"

Gordon said nothing for a moment, then his eyes met Alan's and even across the video-link, Alan could see his brother's eyes were damp.

"Because you were hurting too Alan, and you are important to us. We couldn't save you from what happened, but we could at least give you the space to recover properly…"

"`We are International Rescue. We save everyone we can at all costs.'" Alan murmured, quoting Jeff Tracy. "Even each other, right?"

Gordon nodded.

"Especially each other, Alan."

"Then can you do me a favour, Gordon? Contact Tracy Island and tell them I'm on my way. I have a big brother called Scott who needs rescuing."

Gordon thought about that for a moment, and frowned slightly.

"Er..Alan, I know I called you up out of the blue, but if Scott finds out I did, he'll be mad at me for nagging at you to come back and…"

"But you didn't…" Alan smiled slightly. "You would rather be able to tell Scott that _I_ called _you_ , right?"

"Um…why don't you just roll in there and surprise 'em? Once you are there and convince them that you are there because you want to be, you can say what you want to…you're not doing this because I called are you?"

Alan looked surprised.

"Of course I am Gordon, but not because I feel pressured or anything…not in _that_ way anyway."

Gordon was looking worried. Alan tried to explain.

"Look big brother, I feel like I have only just woken up! I seem to have been asleep forever…but I've woken up and found that whilst I was asleep, the world is falling apart around my ears. The least I can do is help out, right? I just wish I had realized the implications when I called last week. I was happy thinking I had helped to solve all your problems without considering anything else."

"But you've been really sick Alan, why should you have to worry about it?"

Alan smiled. He knew the answer to that question now.

"Because I am International Rescue."

Whilst Gordon was absorbing that, Alan was already starting back towards the house.

"Gordon, don't worry about it. I'll have a word with lady P and ask her and Parker to run me back to base right now. Signing off. Speak to you later!"

"Are you certain Alan that this is what you want? Are you ready to return?"

Alan gave her a grin.

"I admit that this morning I might have given you a different answer, but I've just been chatting to Thunderbird Five. Gordon's not used to being on his own so much, and just needed to talk. He let slip how tight things are at the base and rather than making me feel stressed as I think dad was worried about, it just made me feel desperate to get back there and help out. Lady Penelope, believe me, I need to get home. I'll set out and walk and swim if I have to, but I'll get there much quicker if you and Parker can take me in Fab 1."

Penelope smiled.

"I do believe you mean it Alan!" she declared. "Parker! Prepare to leave. We're going to Tracy Island."

Virgil prayed that no emergency would come in until Scott had had the chance to get more than two hours' sleep. Virgil had begun to worry that sleeping on the sofa would leave him cramped and sore, and had employed the assistance of Kyrano and Tintin to carry Scott upstairs to his bedroom. Virgil alone was able to remove Scott's shoes and outer clothing before closing the curtains and leaving his eldest brother in peace. Scott was still soundly sleeping the sleep of the exhausted. Smiling to himself, Virgil returned to his father's office where he found Lady Penelope's picture lighting up as her comm signal flashed. He smiled and activated the talkback.

"Lady Penelope, hello. How's my baby brother?"

Lady Penelope's pretty face broke into a smile.

"Your baby brother is well recovered, Virgil, and is insisting on coming back to work right away. He even threatened to swim home if we refused to bring him, so we'll be there in approximately four minutes."

"He..he is? Can I talk to him? Alan are you there?"

The picture switched to Alan. Bright eyed and blond haired, engaging grin and weren't his cheeks a little fuller than they had been? He was certainly a much better colour. Alan grinned.

"Virgil. Sorry I took so long to wake up, big brother, but I'm home. How's Scott?"

"Beat. Are you sure you are ready for this Alan? It's not exactly been quiet around here."

"We're Tracys. We can handle anything. Now I have learned that, I won't forget it again in a hurry. Bring it on. We're coming in to Land. See you in five!"

The transmission cut out, and Virgil celebrated by pounding his fist into his hand and then waving it in the air. He pressed his wrist comm.

"Brains, Tintin, Kyrano, Grandma, we have some guests arriving in just two minutes. Alan's back!"

Ten minutes later, the little group were gathered in the lounge drinking lemonade. Grandma was worriedly peering at her youngest grandson, but to her enormous relief, she could find nothing amiss.

"Are you sure you are strong enough to go back on duty Alan?" she asked him for the third time. Alan hugged her.

"Yes, and I'm sorry I worried you so much grandma, but I've slept and rested enough. I don't know if I could wrestle a bear yet… maybe a bear-cub? But give me a day or two…"

Alan broke off as the door opened. Scott stood there, once again wearing the clothes that Virgil had left on the end of his bed for him. He looked tired and had a lost, almost haunted look in his eyes. His surprised gaze ranged around the room and fell upon Alan. Alan was secretly shocked at how tired his oldest brother looked. He vowed he would try to make it up to him somehow. He bounded over to him, a broad smile on his face.

"Scotty!"

"Alan! What are you doing here?"

"I live here Scott…aren't you supposed to be in bed?"

"Not when I am supposed to be on duty."

Alan shook his head.

"Right now Scott, you're the one who needs rescuing. Thanks for covering for me while I was sick, but if you don't get some sleep, you're the one who'll end up sick."

Scott grabbed his baby brother's shoulders.

"Are you sure Alan? Goodness knows we need you around here, but not at the risk of losing you forever."

"I am Alan Tracy, International Rescue. At your service…"

His voice was drowned out by the sound of the alarm siren going off once again. Everyone looked at Alan. He nodded.

"Sounds like my cue."

He turned back to Scott.

"I belong here. Whatever the emergency, I'll handle it. Scott, it's good to see you. Now go to bed!"

Scott looked round the room again, then gave Alan a quick but fierce hug.

"Thanks bro. See you in the morning."

Scott went to bed.


	10. Chapter 10 - The Ones We Love

**CHAPTER TEN**

 **THE ONES WE LOVE**

The sound of Thunderbird Three's engines roared overhead as her pilot reversed the rocket into dock on Tracy Island. On board, Jeff Tracy was at the helm, John beside him watching almost critically as his father expertly worked the controls. Behind them both, strapped into one of the rear passenger seats was Gordon. John had docked at the space station to wait for the International Space Agency to collect the rescued astronauts, do a few necessary repairs to the rocket and pick up Gordon, knowing that his brother had been on duty now for a great deal longer than he should have. For the time they had been in dock, Gordon, John and their father had checked all of Thunderbirds Three's systems, re-routed all of the station's functions to the ground and waited for Gordon to pack his bags. Gordon was unspeakably relieved to be able to go home at last. Jeff was very proud of him. Gordon had stepped up to the mark and then right over it, without faltering. With two of the Tracys on sick leave, things had been ridiculously tight, but they had managed somehow. He could not imagine how difficult Scott had been finding things since he and John had been gone, running International Rescue largely on his own.

Although they had remained in radio contact with base, the thirteen-minute time delay made conversations long-winded and tiresome, and everyone was simply too busy to sit and wait for replies to arrive. Policy therefore was of communication only when necessary. Whilst they had been away, Jeff had worried consistently about what might be going on back home with International Rescue, and how would Scott cope alone? Would Virgil disregard his orders and return to duty early in order to help Scott? And what of Young Alan? Alan had been seriously injured, and without a doubt even whilst he was recovering from his physical hurts, the shock and trauma caused by the incident had taken a massive toll on the young astronaut. Jeff needed Alan. He needed him to be part of his team, he knew he did. But he needed Alan to be with them voluntarily. Alan had to _want_ to be there.

The last few weeks had been among the most difficult of Jeff's life. The terror that had ripped through his soul when Scott had first informed him over the radio that Alan and Virgil had been hurt, and that Alan was dying had not quite left him. Jeff knew it had left him scarred, even as the death of his dear Carolyn had scarred him. Even now these latest scars were still hurting badly, and would not begin to heal until he could be confident that his boys would heal. Completely. All of them.

He thought about the motto of International Rescue "At All Costs" that he had implemented and drummed into the boys right from the beginning. It had been a very real and honest statement of intent, and Jeff still believed in it wholeheartedly. However, he had to admit that recently that belief had taken something of a battering. He could have lost both Alan _and_ Virgil. What would he have done then? He would have had no option but to recruit people from outside if he wanted to keep the organization running. Did he want to do that? If the boys had refused to involve themselves in his plans he would not have had a choice; and it had been a point he had had to consider very carefully before going ahead with Brains right at the beginning.

Now of course, he was arriving home finally, after a long mission. The comms were down, thanks to a power failure half-way home. They had been forced to re-wire some of the ships systems in order to keep the navi-com on line. Communication was one of the systems that had had to be sacrificed, and it wasn't until they had locked on to Thunderbird Five that they had any communication at all with anyone. Gordon had quickly brought his father and elder brother up to speed, including the detail that as soon as Alan felt well enough, he had insisted on returning to full duty, but had refused to give any more details than that, saying simply that "Everything is fine!"

They were down. They were home, finally after almost two weeks living in an oversized beaked bean tin it felt like. John felt he would appreciate Thunderbird Five more after this. As for Gordon, after having his satellite watch extended by two weeks, felt like he wanted to curl up on his own bed in his own room and sleep for three days. First, he wanted to see his little brother.

Leaving John and dad behind, he tore through the launch-bay, and then through the work-rooms and tunnels, into the cloakroom, where he showered and removed his IR uniform. Finally, back in his own clothes, he dumped his suitcase down in the kitchen and skidded to a halt in the lounge. The room was empty. No, almost empty. Brains was standing at the edge of the open balcony, staring out to sea. He turned and gave Gordon a welcoming smile.

"Welcome home Gordon."

"Brains!"

Gordon of course, had no need to ask where everyone was. He knew already. He grinned at the scientist.

"Everything prepared?"

Brains nodded.

"They're waiting for you. If you want to join in the surprise Gordon, you had better run!"

Gordon ran. Down the steps from the balcony level to the pool. The whole pool decking area had been decorated with balloons and streamers, tables of party food sat beneath the cliff face, and a wide, multi coloured banner streamed from the signal pole that read "Thunderbirds Are Go!" in massive letters. He looked round.

"Alan?" he whispered urgently. A hand waved from behind a giant beach umbrella, and Gordon scuttled behind it. Alan crouched there, grinning widely. Gordon reached out a hand and touched his younger brother tentatively.

"Y. 're really real. Alan, I was so scared I was gonna lose you, I…"

Alan grinned and put a finger over Gordon's mouth, then pulled him forward and hugged him close. He whispered in Gordon's ear.

"I'd hate to ruin this surprise after all the puff I used blowing up all of those balloons!"

Gordon giggled and nodded. Together the brothers waited, Gordon crouched as close to Alan as he could while they waited. It was ten minutes before they heard the sound they had been waiting for.

Jeff and John had been astounded and not a little disappointed at finding everywhere empty and silent.

"You know dad, I thought they might have at least have missed us…unless the whole household is out on a rescue!"

Jeff shook his head.

"The boys maybe, and Tintin possibly, but Grandma should still be around, and Kyrano and Brains…something is definitely going on."

The post flight checks that Alan always performed so efficiently took them longer than they had expected, and by the time they had showered and changed into normal clothing once again, almost fifteen minutes had passed.

"I wonder Gordon didn't stay and give us a hand!" John remarked a little stiffly. His father ruffled his hair.

"Gordon's been on duty for six weeks, son. How would you feel in his place? Besides which, these can't have been easy weeks for him to be trapped away from home either."

"True. I bet he and Alan are already planning their next piece of mischief together."

Jeff looked at him and grinned.

"Didn't I hear you say a month or so ago that if only Alan would recover you would gladly put up with any of his tricks?"

"I never said that!" John exclaimed. Then at his father's grinning face, he laughed suddenly. "Oh alright dad, I might have said that. Between you and me I am secretly hoping that I live to regret it!"

"Me too, son. Me too."

Like Gordon a few minutes earlier, they found the entire complex deserted. The house was empty. No grandma or even Kyrano. Everyone was missing. Father and son each caught the other's eye.

"You don't suppose they have something planned for us do you? A `welcome home' party or something?" John asked, his eyebrows raised. Jeff shrugged.

"Well, not in here they don't. Let's go downstairs."

They turned and went downstairs the back way, through the house and emerged onto the pool area from the kitchen level in the doorway through the rock face at the base of the cliff into which the house was built. They stepped out and stared around in delighted surprise at the decorations and food around them. They just had time to notice the large banner over the pool, when ten figures leapt out of their various hiding places yelling "Surprise!"

Jeff burst out laughing, his heart swelling with joy and pride as he looked around at his household.

Kyrano and Tintin arm in arm stood near the door he and John had just come out of, and were smiling softly.

Grandma was now in the deckchair which a moment ago she had evidently been crouched behind. She was wiping something from her eyes and trying not to weep.

Lady Penelope and Parker were walking towards him to shake his hand, each eating a large and gooey cream éclair.

Scott and Virgil were climbing out of the pool, their re-breathers clutched in their wet hands, grinning widely.

Gordon and Alan were standing side by side, Gordon clutching Alan by the arm as though he was afraid the younger man was about to try to run away. Gordon was red faced, and might have been holding back tears…it was difficult to tell for sure. Alan was grinned widely.

Brains strolled up casually and held out his hand.

"Welcome home Mister Tracy." He said simply. "The whole world has been following your progress ever since you left. Thunderbird Three will be repaired and ready to go in thirty-six hours. The telemetry and systems data you transmitted from Thunderbird Five was invaluable. The damaged systems will be easy to repair. I will take the opportunity to upgrade the entire electrical system whilst I am at it. It should make the same system failure ninety-three point two percent less likely ever to recur."

"Thanks Brains." Jeff replied sincerely, and looked round. The boys were grinning at him. Somehow his attention was drawn once again to the banner behind them.

"Boys…this welcome home is wonderful. Thank you...but tell me why did you put "Thunderbirds Are Go!" on the banner? Appropriate I suppose but…"

Scott hugged his father and shook John by the hand.

"You were hoping for a welcome home sign?" he smiled and glanced round at his younger brothers. "Dad, the first week you two were away was a nightmare for me. I was out on rescues more than I was home, I had almost no sleep that week, and I knew we were about finished with both of you on your way to Mars and Alan and Virgil still sick…but then everything turned around."

"Turned around how, Scott?" Jeff looked stricken with guilt. Scott grinned.

"Alan came home and took over for a couple of days while I rested, then Tintin borrowed Alan's plane and took Virgil to visit the hospital in Brisbane to be officially tested for fitness."

"And?" Jeff looked at Virgil. Virgil grinned.

"And I am now officially A1. As of three days ago I have official approval to return to work. And now you and Thunderbird Three are back from your rescue mission, the whole team is back together again."

Jeff hugged his four elder sons tightly, and then turned to Alan. He walked over to him and rested his hands lightly on the young man's shoulders.

"Alan, what about you, son?"

"I'm fine, dad."

Jeff searched his eyes, but he saw only Alan's crystal clear, blue eyed gaze.

"I don't want you back on duty unless you know you are really ready. We almost lost you…I think we almost lost you twice. The first time from the bullets, And the second time…"

"…I know dad, I know."

Alan smiled at his father.

"For a while I thought I wanted out. But now I know I couldn't bear it. I couldn't live with myself if someone died that I could have saved. It's like you always said when we were kids; `We save all the lives we can, at any cost'. It means we care more about saving other people than we do about ourselves."

"And that is truly how you feel?"

Suddenly, Jeff was surrounded by all five of his sons.

"Yes, father." Scott reassured him. "These last few weeks have been the hardest I can ever remember, between nearly losing Alan and Virgil, being so short-handed, and then having to cope with rescues single handed for a week...if we didn't believe in your core values dad, we couldn't have done it."

"But now Alan and I are fit and healthy and raring to go, Scott is rested, Gordon finally has his feet back on terra firma and you and John are home." Virgil continued. "The whole team is back together again, stronger than before." He looked up at the banner flapping above their heads.

"That's why you chose those words for the banner." John smiled at his brothers. "Because _Thunderbirds Are Go!"_

Alan glanced at Gordon and he found Gordon already waiting to catch his eye. He was grinning widely. "Shall we do it?" his eyes seemed to ask. Filled with an impish sense of mischief, Alan nodded.

Together, the two boys linked their arms together and heaved with all their might, crying out at the top of their lungs;

"Thunderbirds Are Go _ing into The Pool_!"

With an almighty splash, Scott, John, Virgil and Jeff were pushed into the swimming pool. Everyone watching burst out laughing, as Alan and Gordon dived in after them, fully dressed. As he surfaced, wiping water from his eyes and treading water, Jeff Tracy tried to be angry, but he couldn't. How could he? He watched his sons chasing and splashing each other round and round the pool and had to smile as he climbed out, dripping.

He couldn't be cross. Not this time. Not anymore. Everything was all right again. Everyone was healthy and happy, playing together. Another emergency would come up, more danger would happen, but they would be fine. The Thunderbirds would do their duty. When the call came, the Thunderbirds would go. When they had done their duty, when they had saved all the lives they could, they would return safely home again. Home to the ones they loved.

THE END

Thank you to everyone for reading, following, favouriting and reviewing this story. It is a shame it has to end, but who knows what adventures are still awaiting just around the corner?

Until next time, adieu!

Lilidelafield


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